


Daydreams and Nightmares

by red_clover_and_queen_annes_lace



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cannon divergent after sandboy but information and plot points from later episodes are still used, Chloe is also redeemed because I love my babies, LGBTQ Characters, Marinette is the Guardian, Other, Polyamory, Slow Burn, cannon gabe has been murdered and replaced with BetterGabeTM, morally ambiguous Emilie, nathalie basically just adopts the entire hero gang, nathalie redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 66,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_clover_and_queen_annes_lace/pseuds/red_clover_and_queen_annes_lace
Summary: Usually the lucky charm repairs everything after an akuma attack, but after sandboy Adrien and Nathalie find themselves plagued by newfound nightmares. They seek solace in transforming and seeing the city at night, where Mayura and Chat Noir realize they have more in common than they thought, and strike up an unexpected friendship.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste & Chloé Bourgeois & Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Alya Césaire, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste/Chloé Bourgeois/Alya Césaire/Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Nino Lahiffe, Alya Césaire/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois/Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 487
Kudos: 547





	1. Chapter 1

Nathalie awoke to the feeling of being watched. She was in her apartment, a cacophony of shrieks and cries echoing through the walls. Okay, so there was an akuma. She halfheartedly contemplated what kind of villain had been created tonight, when her blue eyes caught on a pair of green ones. 

“Emilie,” she breathed, staring at the lovely figure watching her from a dark corner of the room. The woman looked almost exactly the same as Nathalie remembered, delicate and dulcet-faced, but fainter, like a ghost. Her catlike green gaze still held the same weight. 

“How are you here?” Nathalie asked, wonder coloring her voice.

“I’m not,” Emilie replied softly.

“How can I get you here?” Nathalie stumbled to Emilie’s side, almost grabbing her shoulder. “Adrien, Ga- Mr. Agreste, they both miss you deeply, perhaps we can find a way to make you less-” she wanted to translucent, but figured that may be a bit insulting. “I need to find a way to bring you fully back.”

Emilie looked at her for a moment, and a sweet smile bloomed on her face. “Is that what you want?”

Nathalie wanted to respond, but something about Emilie’s voice made her freeze.  
“Because I don’t think you truly want to bring me back,” Emilie’s honeyed tones turned to brittle ice.

“Of course I do-”

“No, you like being needed,” Emilie retorted freezingly. “As long as I’m gone you can try and fill the roles I played.”

“Pardon?” Nathalie inquired formally, her professional mask raising upon hearing Emilie’s cold voice.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. As soon as I left you made it your job to take care of Gabriel and Adrien!” 

“I’m just trying to help.” Nathalie folded her hands behind her back. She pictured her face impassive like stone. Her stomach rolled.

“No, you’re trying to take my place.” Emilie laughed. She sounded unhinged.  
Nathalie felt a creeping cold tangle in her chest.

“You think you can fill the spaces I left in that broken little family. You’re fooling yourself.” 

“That was never my intent,” Nathalie assured her. Her voice wavered. 

Emilie lifted her chin and glared at Nathalie dead in the eyes. “Do you seriously think you can hold them together?”  
Nathalie stared at the floor. 

“You are not Adrien’s mother. You are not Gabriel’s wife. Stop acting like you are, you’re a fucking fraud. That is my family, not yours. 

Nathalie could feel her hands trembling. She hated herself for it.  
“I’m only trying to protect them.”

“They don’t need you to protect them. They don’t need you at all. Without me, they will inevitably fall apart. They will suffer as long as I am gone and there is nothing you can do about it. You will never save them.”

A flash of pink light lit up the room. Nathalie felt a gentle fluttering on her skin. When the ladybug cure cleared her room was empty. Empty of Emilie and her blisteringly cold voice. She returned to her bed, the only proof of the encounter confined to Nathalie’s rapid heartbeat. What a nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time, the nightmare had been because of sandboy. There was no waking up. There was only cold metal bars and even colder silence. The second time, Adrien had woken up in tangled bedsheets, tears streaming down his face, voice hoarse from crying out. Every time after he didn’t even bother yelling for help. He just sat against the cage ensnaring him and watched the world move on without him. 

He did it now, sitting limp against the cage bars, staring blankly into his room. It wasn’t just the cage he was scared of, at least, he didn’t think it was. It was that he was separated. He was somewhere other people couldn’t reach him. While everyone else just continued on with their lives, he was stuck in the same cage in the same room. He was alone in a way that no one could help. Helplessly lonely. Maybe that was what made it so awful. 

In the beginning, he would scare himself awake, heart beating faster and faster until his eyes flew open, and the bars and chains binding him would melt away. He almost wished it could happen again so he wouldn’t have to be trapped in the same dream again. Unfortunately, Adrien wasn’t feeling scared in the slightest. He was feeling something he couldn’t quite name, something quiet and old, aching deep in his bones. As it seemed, the only escape from this dream would be provided by the incessant wailing of his alarm clock.

Or perhaps not. A soft tapping noise came from somewhere Adrien couldn’t see. The noise grew slightly louder, and began to sound almost like… muffled footsteps? There was never anyone in his nightmares, so he reasoned it must be coming from outside his mind. “There’s someone nearby,” he thought to himself urgently. “I need to wake up. Please wake up.” Nothing. “It could be dangerous.” His heart began to beat faster. “It could be an akuma. Ladybug might need me.”

His eyes flew open. 

“Yes!” Adrien whispered, quietly rolling out of his bed, where Plagg continued to snore contentedly. His alarm clock read two am in glaring red numbers. The gentle scuffling sounded as if it were coming from the ceiling, so after a cautionary check or his room and the hallway, Adrien stumbled to the window, attempting to spot whatever was up on the roof. He peered into the night sky, scrutinizing the darkness until his vision blurred. It was probably squirrels he reasoned, or maybe some pigeons. Still, he held out hope that it could be one of his superhero friends, or any other excuse to transform and go out. He had discovered after many long nights that there would be no falling back asleep after one of his nightmares, at least if it was one of his friends he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the night alone with his thoughts.

He was about to turn back and think of some other way to pass the time when a shadowy figure vaulted off the roof with clearly miraculous enhanced agility. So that was the mysterious noise solved. He stared for a moment as the person disappeared into the night, before quickly transforming and starting after them. 

For a good while, there was no sign of the person, so Chat just continued in the direction they had been heading, green eyes scanning the rooftops. The city was gorgeous that night, washed in moonlight and glittering with fallen rain. A few lonely souls walked the streets, but they paid him no mind, seemingly focused on getting wherever they needed to be and escaping the stinging chill. As Chat neared the Eiffel Tower he spotted a dark silhouette jumping gracefully between the beams. He crept silently toward them, trying to decipher who the figure was. As he reached the tower the person continued to leap around the beams and didn’t appear to notice him. For a moment the figure seemed almost nearby, but remained shrouded in darkness. They sniffled softly and their breath hitched. It sounded like they were trying not to cry. Trying in vain it seemed.

“Hey wait,” Chat called gently, as the mystery person continued higher. They gasped softly. “Sorry to disturb you… er- Carapace? Queenie? The person didn’t answer and quickly jumped away from him.  
“I swear I won’t tell Ladybug about this! I know we’re not supposed to hang out if there’s not an akuma but I heard you sniffling and-” he paused, “Sorry I shouldn’t have brought that up, if you don’t wanna talk about it that’s totally fine-” he jumped to catch up, “I’m sorry your night isn’t going the greatest. I’ve had a kinda rough night too.” The person scoffed quietly from wherever they were hidden. So it wasn’t Carapace. Carapace was too sweet to scoff. It could be Rena though, her sarcasm levels were off the charts. The two continued to trapeze around the tower, leaping around each other in a long complicated dance. Chat saw glimpses of the person, always obscured by shadows.

“I’ve been having the worst nightmares since Sandboy,” he continued, unfazed by his parter’s lack of conversation, “I swear I haven’t slept properly in weeks!” The person gave an understanding hum, seemingly before they could stop themself. He considered that a success. It sounded like they were almost at the same level. “How about you? Why are you hanging around the Eiffel Tower at three am?”

The person didn’t respond. “You’re pawsitively unresponsive,” he teased, and they gave a quiet deadpan groan. They were beginning to reach the top of the tower, and he still wasn’t sure who this was, or why they had been crying. They didn’t tell him to go away, but they also didn’t seem to be all that inclined to company. He figured he’d give talking one last try, and if they still didn’t have anything to say he would leave them alone. 

“Are you okay? It’s a bit lonely here all by yourself, especially if you’re not feeling the greatest.” Crickets. Chat slowed down, whoever it was clearly didn’t want a conversation. He stopped on a beam a small ways away from them. “I’ll leave you alone if you want me to! I hope you feel better!” he called sincerely and prepared to retreat down the tower. The figure paused and turned toward him.

Golden beams lit up the tower. Each night on the hour the tower had a stunning short light show, but right next to the lights themselves the glow was incredibly overwhelming. Chat winced in the harsh light, his vision going starry and his balance faltering. He heard the mystery person groan and stumble, and then a soft shriek. There was a clang in front of him as the person fell clumsily onto the bar he was on. He grabbed at them blindly, steadying them and himself.

He sighed in relief as they both regained their balance, but as his eyes adjusted he was greeted with a pair of unfamiliar magenta ones. Mayura. His eyes widened, and Chat had to clench his jaw to keep it from dropping. He stumbled away from her hastily. The two stared at each other for a long steely moment, fan and baton raised respectively. This Mayura looked shockingly different from Hawkmoth’s cocky and agile partner in crime. She stood weakly, her expression pained. Whether it was from the fall or something else, he couldn’t be sure. There were dark circles under her eyes and tear tracks running down her cheeks. She had one arm wrapped around her ribs as if she was trying to hold herself together. 

Neither person moved. “We should be fighting each other,” Chat thought weakly, “We want each other’s miraculous. We are enemies. She has hurt me for standing in her way and probably will again.” Still, he couldn’t bring himself to make the first move. She looked startlingly like how he felt; exhausted and sad. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror and seeing the same emotions reflected right back at him. He couldn’t make himself hate her the way he usually could. Mayura seemed no more inclined to fight him than he did, standing in a motionless uncertainty. The lights turned off and she escaped into the cover of darkness, leaving him alone at the top of the tower. Shaking off the bizarre confliction rolling in his stomach, Chat attempted to follow her but found she proved to be a very difficult woman to find when she didn’t want to be.

He combed the rooftops for an hour, expecting a Sentimonster to wreak havoc across the city. None did. Instead, Chat returned home and spent the unexpected quiet contemplating his encounter with Mayura.

*****************

The next morning was painfully normal. Adrien stumbled through it in a fog, ignoring the questions from Plagg and the thinly concealed concerned glances from Nathalie. He ate his breakfast without tasting it and didn’t say a word on his ride to school. God, he needed sleep. And some clarity. 

Adrien made it through first period on autopilot, pasting a model smile across his face if anyone looked at him too closely. He thought he had been hiding his exhaustion pretty well when Nine pulled him aside during lunch.

“Dude, are you feeling okay?” Nino asked gently, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m great,” Adrien replied with a plastic smile and a halfhearted thumbs up. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you look kinda… uh, tired. We’re a little worried.” Sincere concern spilled through Nino’s attempted casualness, and Adrien couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth for his friend.

“Honestly I haven’t been sleeping very we- wait wait wait,” he paused, “Who’s we?”

Nino groaned and facepalmed. Seriously, unironically facepalmed. Only Nino could pull that off without looking like a monumental idiot. “The girls told me not to say anything.”

“Dang it,” Adrien muttered under his breath, “The girls have noticed too?”  
The resulting silence was all he needed to hear. It wasn’t that he minded his friends caring about him, but they sometimes inadvertently caused problems for him. Nino, he could handle, as he was satisfied with a simple answer and a promise to take better care of himself. Alya and Marinette, on the other hand, were not so easily placated. Alya was stubbornly inquisitive, and wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew exactly why he hadn’t been sleeping. And Marinette was relentlessly kind and would hold him to any promises to get better. What was he supposed to say to them, “Sorry I don’t look so hot, I’m plagued with nightmares and I accidentally helped a supervillain and then didn’t feel like fighting her and I don’t think I feel guilty at all?” Yeah right.

He had to do something. 

“Nino,”

“Yep?”

“As my best friend now and forever can I ask you a teensy favor?”

“‘Course.”

“Will you please tell the girls that I’m totally fine.”

“Hang on, dude you said something about not sleeping great, you know I can’t lie to them!”

“I know,” Adrien reassured him quickly, “But all I need is a little sleep, and I really don’t want to worry them over such a small thing.

Nino looked sympathetic but unconvinced. He opened his mouth to respond, but an earsplitting rumble erupted from the courtyard. Adrien had never been so grateful for an akuma in his life. The two boys glanced at each other briefly before racing away from the sound and the rapidly crumbling floor.  
Adrien ducked behind an empty stairwell and transformed. By the time he made his way back to the courtyard, the akuma had seemingly moved on. Deep crevices split the ground, and clouds of black ash drifted in the air. 

Nino and the other’s had clearly evacuated so after a rapid check that no one remained in the building, Chat vaulted onto the roof and followed the path of destruction to the park. The fight was in full swing, with ladybug having already arrived. The akuma in question was one of Hawkmoth’s cooler akumas; it was a woman with long black hair, that drifted in an inky cloud around her head like smoke. Her outfit seemed inspired by an exploding volcano, with the bodice mottled tones of ruby and gold, and her skirt dark grey, with ribbons of the lava colors trailing down it. Blackened leaves encirled her brow in a dramatic crown, and formed a mask around her eyes. Her weapon was a disproportionately large battleax which she was jamming into every street and building she could, while still fending off Ladybug’s attacks. Chat landed by his lady’s side and threw himself into the fight.

“So who’s our volcanic primadonna?” Chat mused.

“She’s-”

“I am Mother Nature!” the akuma interrupted. “I am here to destroy those who destroy the Earth! I will make them feel the suffering they inflict upon all of nature!”

“That seems like a kind of extreme way to go green but go off I guess,” Chat retorted to her introduction. Ladybug snorted.

“She’s essentially out to murder the mayor,” Ladybug ground out between blows. 

“I met him once,” Chat laughed (it was more than once but she didn’t need to know that), “so I can sympathize.”

Ladybug giggled, despite their current situation. They’d dealt with plenty of angry citizens out to get the mayor. They’d be done in twenty minutes tops. 

As if purposely proving him wrong, a large sentimonster made of rocks and oozing lava tore through the trees right at that moment, followed by Mayura.

“Fuck.” Ladybug groaned. That added at least half an hour to their time. “Okay new plan, you deal with the Sentimonster, I’ll deal with the akuma.”

”Got it,” he responded immediately, despite the spike of panic he felt. He hadn’t faced Mayura since the night at the tower. Would she use it against him? Or even tell Ladybug? He shook those thoughts away. He had a job to do. People to protect.

Chat sprinted after the sentimonster, quickly formulating a battle plan. He needed to isolate this thing from the akumatized woman. Then he world figure out if the amok was on her, or the monster itself. He didn’t think about what to do with Mayura.

The sentimonster wasn’t particularly smart, but it was frustratingly strong. The damn thing was beating his attempts to isolate it black and blue. He tried and tried again, leaping from lamposts and trees, using his baton to try and corral the thing somewhere more secluded. The creature swatted him out of the air like a fly. 

Eventually, Chat stumbled into an alley, trying to catch his breath. He could feel bruises forming under his skin, and his entire body was sore. The exhaustion had seeped into his bones, making then feel like lead. He sank to the ground panting and wondered if he could even manage to get up again. He leaned his pounding head against the wall. 

A blue figure entered his blurring vision. Mayura.  
”Shit,” he coughed, struggling to get to his feet. Wordlessly, she held up a hand, then tossed a small unremarkable pen at his feet. 

He stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded. “Is that-”

“Yes.” She turned to leave.

“Hang on,” he grabbed Mayura’s wrist, “If the amokatized object was yours all along, why’d the sentimonster match the akuma?”

She snatched her wrist back and shrugged, “Aesthetic.”  
*****************  
The park felt different at night. It was lonely and dark, the only light was the reflection of streetlights from a few streets away reflecting off the wet asphalt. Everything was washed in blue and black, turning the slides, and swings, and forgotten sandbox toys into looming shadowy figures. Chat stood silently in the center of it all, feeling the cold air prickle across his skin. Nothing moved, save for the pale plumes of air escaping his lips. He couldn’t help but be grateful for cold making his breath visible; it reminded him to keep breathing.

It was a longshot. He knew it was. He should be indoors trying to sleep, not in a desolate park numb with chill. But he couldn’t help himself. His mind kept falling back the fight, to the action and the taste of blood in his mouth, and to the quiet look Mayura had given him, before turning away and retreating. He and Ladybug had defeated the akuma minutes later.

The tactical part of him reminded him that it may not have been mercy. It could be a trap. He shouldn’t care either way. He should hate her no matter what happened today. He only half listens.

Something stirred on a dark park bench. Chat edged closer, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Could be a trap. Could be a trap. Could be a trap.  
When he sees a swath of midnight blue fabric draped across the seat he doesn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. She was here. 

Mayura sat with the kind of prim posture Nathalie always reminded him to have. She was staring at the empty carousel in front of her, it’s plastic horses turned melancholy in the weak light. Her eyes were focused, as if watching some imaginary child play, ensuring they didn’t fall. She fit right in with the morose whimsicality of the darkened park. They both did he supposed. Black and blue and haunting an empty park at night.

She cleared her throat and turned her head to look at him.

“You came back,” he said. It sounded like a question.

“I did.” Her voice was quiet as if she was still far away in her thoughts. Her eyes strayed back to the carousel.

“You didn’t fight me.”

She scoffed. “Don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“Why?”

“I don’t-” She paused, “You’re pathetic to fight when you’re sleep-deprived. Go home and rest so next time I have a real challenge.”

He laughed because it felt like the appropriate thing to do. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to feel about the situation. “You’re such an asshole,” he replied good-naturedly. At least, he hoped he sounded good-natured.

She smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” She stood gingerly. “I’m going home, it’s cold out here. You should too, you’re clearly exhausted.”

“Gee thanks.”

“No problem,” she retorted, before leaping onto a building and disappearing from view.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie deals with her feelings (badly).

She had expected to get used to the feeling of green eyes watching her after so many weeks. She wasn’t. Something about being at work with Adrien and Gabriel soothed it, but the moment she was alone she could feel those eyes staring at her, reminding her that they were still there. It was like they were burned in the backs of her eyelids.

“As long as I’m gone you can try and fill the roles I played.”

That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. She did everything she could to help them. She had kept it all a secret. She had picked up that damn peacock miraculous to bring Emilie back. She had fought through her exhaustion and dizziness and headaches for her. At the end of the day when she could taste the blood pooling in her mouth and wondered if she would wake up the next morning, it was all for them.

“I am not trying to replace you!” Nathalie swore into her empty bedroom. “I only want to help.”

“Then why did you help Chat Noir?” Emilie’s nonexistent voice shot back.

That was the fucking question. Why the hell did she help some random kid who was standing in the way of the child she actually cared about from getting his mother back? Why was she prioritizing a piece of jewelry over the life of a woman? What kind of person did that make her? Nathalie absentmindedly raked her nails across her arms until her skin was red and itchy.

“Miss Nathalie?” Duusu questioned blearily from her spot on the pillow. “Oh, Miss Nathalie you said you were trying to stop that!” 

Startled, Nathalie looked down at her arms. “I didn’t even realize- Duusu you won’t say anything if we go out again tonight right?”

“But you need to rest! We’ve already gone out so many times in the past few weeks, aren’t you tired?”

“No,” she lied.

“I guess that’s okay then-”

Nathalie didn’t wait for her to finish. She let the intoxicating rush of blue and magenta light wash over her skin and lept from her apartment balcony. She let herself fall for just a little longer than she needed to, closing her eyes and pretending there was only this. There was only her and the wind, and the scent of the night air, and the feeling of falling. After a moment she pried her eyes open and positioned herself to land deftly on a lampost. She pulled it off with the quiet sureness of someone who had done it many times before.

Mayura didn’t stay in one place. She traversed the city by rooftops, only stopping to occasionally catch her breath or wait out a coughing fit. When she was moving it felt as if her anxieties had a looser hold on her. Perhaps it was cowardly to try and run away from her thoughts. She didn’t particularly care.  


The winter chill had set in earlier that week and everything looked sharper in the crisp air. She couldn’t help but like it, enjoying that the world could have the same disposition that she did; too cold and too sharp, all brittle branches and barren of leaves. It was comforting to not be alone in that aspect. Especially considering she tended to be alone in every other aspect. 

Until recently of course, when she had found herself subject to echos of Emilie’s speech reminding her just how helpless and selfish she was. She had never been one to have nightmares (she was far too practical for that) but now she was grasping at any snatches of sleep she could get between being berated by her nightmare version of Emilie. 

Pushing away those thoughts, Mayura ran across another stretch of roofs, making jumps that were risky, even with a miraculous. Anything to get out of her own head. Anything to make her feel like she was flying. She got used to the sound of the sleeping city, the quiet industrial sounds of life hidden beneath darkened buildings. She let her consciousness bleed into the subdued bustle of the city. She thought only of sparse birdsong and the industrial hum of streetlamps. 

A single soft voice spilled into her mind. She paused.

“So ladybug I was wondering- ugh no.”

Mayura glanced around for the voice (noting only empty streets), before peeking over a nearby chimney, to see Chat Noir pacing feverishly on the Dupain-Cheng bakery roof below it. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his catlike eyes were rimmed with a tired red. She recalled him saying he had been unable to sleep due to nightmares at the Eiffel Tower. Clearly, that had not improved in the weeks afterward.

“M’lady, I was hoping we could talk-” he shook his head animatedly, “too serious.”

The teen had a small notebook in his hand (it was very appropriately ladybug patterned) and a pen in the other. He crossed something out on his page.

“We’ve been through a lot and I know you love someone else, but I was hoping you would…”  
he paused, scribbling down his words, “...go on a date with me?”  
The boy wrote something else before scratching it out, “Way too cheesy.” He puffed his cheeks in frustration. 

Something in her stomach rolled. He couldn’t have been any older than Adrien. Yet here he was, awake in the middle of the night from nightmares, smitten over someone who was in love with someone else. She could barely handle that heartbreak as an adult. It was tragically cruel that a child who had dedicated his youth to protecting others had to suffer the same fate. 

Her breath hitched.  
“He doesn’t deserve that-” thought a quiet angry part of her. 

“Remember why you do this,” interrupted a distorted combination of her own voice and Emilie’s, “Think of Gabriel and Adrien. You want them to be happy, don’t you? If you love them so much why would you be the one person who stands between them and happiness? You cannot let your misplaced affection for a random child who despises you keep the family you love from being whole again.”

The green eyes were back, glaring at her from all angles.  
“Why won’t you fight him like you’re supposed to?” 

Mayura glanced back at Chat Noir, alone and exhausted on a rooftop before turning her back to the hero and returning home. “Next time,” she swore to those poisonous emerald eyes, “Next time I will fight him without hesitation.”

“Liar. Selfish bitch.”

Nathalie didn’t sleep that night.

*****************

The next morning somehow managed to come both too slowly and too quickly for Nathalie’s tastes. She showered and dressed, and applied a little more concealer under her eyes than normal. She was going to need a new bottle soon. She still had several hours until work so she opted to answer emails from her work laptop until Adrien’s bodyguard picked her up. He didn’t have to pick her up, she lived close enough to the manor to walk and reminded him often. But still, every day his car was in front of her apartment with an extra coffee in the cupholders. If Adrien got his stubborn sweetness from anywhere, it was definitely from him. 

One thing Adrien had apparently not picked up from his bodyguard (a fact that she was incessantly glad of) was his borderline psychic emotional perception. The moment she entered the car he raised his eyebrows and motioned questioningly beneath her eyes. 

“Good to see you too Gregor,” she responded blandly. 

The man didn’t move. 

She sighed in mock defeat, “Late night, don’t worry about it.”

He made an unconvinced grumble but started the car, glancing at her every few minutes as if she were going to pass out on the drive. He gave her a pointed look when she finished her coffee before they even reached the mansion. She pointedly ignored it like the asshole she was.  
“Hey,” she said once they had parked, feeling a little guilty, “thank you for doing so much for them, and for me.”

He responded with an affectionate smile. 

The two parted ways in the foyer, and Nathalie was infinitely jealous that Gregor got to go up to Adrien’s room instead of being stuck in a cold office. Still, she had been working in that office for almost ten years, so it was almost comforting to be in the familiar space sometimes (sans the giant picture of Emilie) (as if she wasn’t being watched by her internal nightmare Emilie enough). The office was empty so Nathalie got straight to work scheduling appointments, answering phone calls, and hoping Gabriel was spending the morning with his son instead of holed up in his lair. 

Much to her disappointment but not surprise, Gabriel entered the office from his lair about thirty minutes later. She pretended to be too focused on writing an email to notice. Being even less inclined to arbitrary greetings than she was, Gabriel silently went to his podium to begin sketching. The holiday line needed to be submitted by the end of the week, and he still had several designs to finish. It might have been easier if Hawkmoth wasn’t beginning to resurface more frequently now that she was recovering, but she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. They continued their work silently, with Gabriel glancing at her every few minutes.

Both to her guilt and slight satisfaction, their usual morning detachment had deteriorated after she had begun to use the peacock miraculous, as his eyes now were always falling on her. Every time she shifted or cleared her throat he stiffened in panic, stance changing to run forward and catch her if need be. She felt bad to cause him to worry and to interrupt his work, but a tiny awful part of her enjoyed the attention just a little bit (because she was that much of a disaster). Honestly, she was beginning to wonder why Gabriel had hired her in the first place, instead of literally anyone else who wasn’t the human equivalent of a garbage fire. 

After an unremarkable day of being excessively aware of each other’s presence working, Gabriel stood abruptly and placed a hand over his hidden miraculous. “I feel something.”  
Her immediate thought was unhelpfully: “Has hell frozen over, you’re open about your emotions now?” before leaping into action. 

“Is it strong enough to be joined by an amok?”

“I believe so,” He replied with thinly concealed excitement.

The two descended into the lair and transformed.

The person in question was a young boy, who was upset that his mother had confiscated his favorite night light, under the grounds that he was too old for it. He wasn’t Mayura’s ideal target, but Hawkmoth seemed to feel the boy had potential. He was transformed into a villain called Luminance, with faintly glowing blue skin, patterned with stars and clouds. He wore a pale pajama-esque outfit. His akumatized object was a small plastic outlet protector he had found in the place of his nightlight, which was hidden within one of his fists. The other hand was used to shoot orbs of light at civilians, turning them to glowing statues. Because if you can’t have your own nightlight you may as well DIY it, she supposed. They released the boy to rampage the city in search of his mother and retrieve his nightlight.

After the connection with Luminance broke Hawkmoth turned to her, his face washed in the gold light of the rapidly setting sun. “Did you find any openings for an amok?”

“Not effectively from here.”

For a moment he almost looked relieved, before his expression faded back into a guarded neutral. 

“Of course I could more easily find opportunities if I were in the field.” She said casually.

“You’re still recovering, and you’ve already joined the fight recently.” His voice was thick with confliction. Even he had to admit she was pretty damn effective in the field, fully recovered or not.

“I’ll be fine, besides, Luminance is proving to be a very effective akuma.” It was true, they could both feel the mass havoc pulsing within their miraculouses. “My presence could turn the tide.”

He pursed his lips. “Please be careful.”

She gave her brightest smile, “When am I not?”

He didn’t return it. “Nathalie, I wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you.” Her heart skipped. Emilie’s eyes glared at her from where they had been burned into her brain.

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing will happen to me. I’ll see you soon.”

The fight was taking place by a row of apartments, not dissimilar to her own. Luminance was giving the hero’s their fair share of trouble, and the streets were lined with statues glowing like stars in the semi-darkness. The teens were currently dodging the glowing spheres being thrown at them, and keeping up a steady stream of banter which consisted of Chat making a light pun and Ladybug glaring at him. She followed them discreetly from behind rooftops, looking for an opening for an amok. None arose so instead she opted to throw herself into the fight.

Both Ladybug and Chat Noir seemed less than enthused to have a new opponent, but Chat flashed her a mischievous little smile between blows. She probably did not want to know why.

“So Mayura, you’re a little fashionably LIGHT to the party.” 

She resisted the urge to groan. She would not involve herself in obnoxious hero banter, even if it was just a groan. She had been right though, she really hadn’t wanted to know why he had smiled like that.

Ladybug was managing to get pretty close to Luminance without being hit, so Mayura put herself between them, and separated the hero from the akuma. The two were quickly immersed in fighting each other while Chat took on the Akuma alone, yet still found time to subject them to his awful puns.

“Looks like the three of us are in a pretty, BRIGHT situation. Bright, tight, get it?”

Ladybug gave him a sarcastic snort, and Mayura shot him a deadpan look when ladybug was momentarily turned away. Chat’s eyes, excuse the wording, positively lit up.

“Hey Mayura, if you get hit by one of Luminance’s lights, can we call you RAYura?” She couldn’t suppress a groan that time. Chat giggled infectiously. Even Ladybug looked mildly amused. Chat took it as an opportunity to direct a steady stream of light puns at her, trying to get a reaction. Mayura was not above glaring at the teen and occasionally found herself hiding a small begrudging smile.

Suddenly her strength faltered, and she doubled over coughing. Her vision went starry and her hearing was muffled. She stumbled backward, expecting Ladybug to take advantage of her sudden weakness. She could hear Hawkmoth’s voice in her ears, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. After a few moments, the coughing fit cleared and her senses returned. Luminance had directed the attention back to him, so Ladybug had not had the chance to advance during her momentary incapacitation. 

“I’m fine,” she said into her communicator with Hawkmoth, who responded with something along the lines of: “like hell you are,” before she returned to the fight. Ladybug was too busy with Luminance to care, but Chat shot her an almost worried glance. Her miraculous pulsed with a soft honest concern, beneath a pang of heavy guilt. She felt almost sick being able to feel his emotions. Something about it was just so invasive, and his emotions were so strong and earnest her heart ached. “I don’t want to know,” the jagged voice belonging to both her and Emilie thought stubbornly, blocking out the tidal wave of emotions that was both hers and Chat’s. Not if it gets in the way of what I want. Well, what the Agreste’s wanted. She was increasingly unsure of whatever it was she wanted. 

The fight didn’t last long after her little falter, and Luminance was quickly defeated. She was about to retreat when she felt a hand against the small of her back. She turned to see Hawkmoth standing behind her, his eyes dark with concern.

“You came to the fight?” Mayura asked, bewildered.

“I came to get you,” He responded too softly for his own good. She wasn’t sure she could respond considering her heart had jumped to her throat.

“Frankly I’m not surprised,” Chat said, seemingly unconcerned that both of his enemies were right in front of him. “Where there’s a light there’s bound to be a moth close behind.” 

After everything that had happened that day, she couldn’t suppress the giggle that escaped from  
her lips. Hawkmoth gave her a look of mock betrayal. Or maybe it wasn’t mock, she could never tell with him. Chat flashed her the brightest, silliest, smuggest grin she had ever seen. Her eyes softened on him for just a moment. “Damnit,” she thought bitterly, “I am definitely getting attached.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's Christmas does not go to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akuma battles? Oh, you mean half-assed transitions to character bonding.

It was Christmas Eve and Adrien was in hell.

Not literal hell obviously but he was starting to think he would’ve preferred it to his current situation. Adrien had barely slept that week and was still plagued by awful nightmares. Plagg was in the middle of an uncharacteristically stern rant about not fraternizing with supervillains who have tried to kill you and other points along those lines. Something about how Mayura was unquestionably evil and would probably throw him into the Seine if he ever tried to talk to her again. That laughing at his jokes and almost having a sense of humor didn’t mean she could be trusted. Which wasn’t technically bad advice but Adrien knew he was going to opt to ignore it either way. 

His father was, well, his father. Distant and cold. Always busy. Adrien pretended not to care, pretended it didn’t hurt more during the holidays. It wasn’t working, so the only thing protecting Adrien from complete despair was the potential that Nathalie might be able to work the same magic she had last year and convince Father to let his friends come over. Although he had found out a few hours later that she hadn’t actually convinced him she had just invited them over and prayed she wouldn’t get fired. She had only supplied the story after Nino had thanked her for inviting them over in front of his father and Nathalie looked like she both wanted to sink into the floor and set Nino on fire. Father had lectured her. She hadn’t looked the least bit sorry.

Though, the likelihood of that Christmas miracle wasn’t looking pretty, as Nathalie was always tired or sick now. And she was being excessively obedient to his father. Father hadn’t noticed, but Adrien was beginning to suspect Nathalie was trying to compensate for her illness, Which was super messed up, and also meant stepping out of line was probably the opposite of what she had in mind for a while.

“Are you even listening to me?” Plagg demanded from his perch on Adrien’s desk. 

Not really. “Yep.” 

“Kid,” Plagg sighed, his voice surprisingly world-weary, “I know you’re not going to listen to me, but please, Adrien swear to me that you are not just using Mayura’s attention to fill the hole your parents have left. Promise me whatever this twisted truce is, it is because you truly believe she is not past redemption, and not a haphazard attempt to forget your pain. I don’t want- I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

Adrien’s heart caught in his throat. “I love you Plagg.”

“I love you too kid.”

Plagg nestled affectionately against his cheek and Adrien ignored the guilty voice asking why he had avoided Plagg’s promise.

*****************  
Adrien was surprised to find his father sitting at the head of the table when he entered the dining room for dinner. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised nonetheless. Nathalie stood motionlessly behind him, seemingly absorbed in her tablet. After sitting down he found that neither he nor his father knew what to say, so after a curt “Hello Father,” they sat in an awkward stretch of silence, both focusing intently on cutting their food. Nathalie’s eyes flit between them occasionally, as if she wished she could spur them into conversation with the sheer force of her will. 

“How is school, Adrien?” His father supplied rigidly after several excruciating minutes.

“Oh, it’s great!” Adrien said animatedly before launching into a recount of all the best moments that had happened in the past weeks. The time Alya brought apples to apples (it was actually cards against humanity but his father didn’t need to know that) and they played at lunch, Nino’s secret love for vanilla frappuccinos, how Marinette did a school project on fashion history. He left out anything that could potentially damage his father’s opinion of his friends or his school.

Nathalie gave her usual polite but noncommital responses, a tight smile or a murmured, “interesting.” His father sat stoic, attentive but unresponsive until he reached the end of his spiel. He opened his mouth to respond, an almost casual expression on his face. Then his phone rang and the man was immediately out of his seat with the phone pressed to his ear. Judging from the whiney voice on the other end it was probably Audrey Bourgeois. 

Adrien slumped in his seat when the door shut behind his father. Typical. Even during the holidays, Adrien was never more important than work. It had never been like that before his mother had died. Adrien was always their first priority. Or at least it felt like he was. But now his father could barely look at him. Not without getting the same misty look he had when he looked at the portrait in the office. Because he was only a reminder of his mother, not his father’s child. He was no longer a person outside of his mother’s sad memories to his father. Adrien set his jaw to avoid opening his mouth. If he did he would probably scream out of frustration.

It’s fine.

This is fine.

His father couldn’t hurt him again.

Surely he was used to it by now.

He should be numb to it by now.

A cool hand gently squeezed his shoulder. He looked up to see Nathalie at his side. She gave him a brief sympathetic look before turning towards the doors. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured, her eyes blazing. Then she stalked out of the room after his father. For all her carefully crafted professionalism, it seemed ignoring your kid on Christmas was enough to make even Nathalie annoyed. 

After a few minutes of muffled conversation and Adrien grappling feelings he couldn’t quite place, his father and Nathalie returned to the dining room.

“Apologies Adrien,” his father said stiffly, glancing pointedly at Nathalie, “There was something I needed to take care of, but it was improper of me to leave in that manner.”

“It’s fine,” Adrien said, a new confliction rolling in his stomach. That look. It was like his father was just trying to placate Nathalie. It was a “look I’m doing the thing you wanted me to do” look. Like actually existing in a room with Adrien was just something he did to please Nathalie. Not because he figured spending time with his son during the holidays was a reasonable expectation for him. A hot itchy feeling rose to Adrien’s skin.

It’s fine.

This is fine.

Except that it wasn’t.

Adrien rose abruptly, blood rushing to his head. The lack of sleep was weakening his filter. “Well now that you’ve made Nathalie happy you may as well get back to work father,” Adrien snapped bitterly, glaring at his father, “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you with my presence!”

His father gaped at him. Nathalie reached for Adrien in attempted comfort before drawing herself back cautiously. Adrien stormed out of the room, guilt already eating at his fury.  
He locked himself in his room and waited until he was sure neither of them were going to come looking for him before transforming and slipping out the window. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or hurt that no one had come after him.

Chat jumped to a quiet building a few blocks away with a flat swath of roof hidden behind a chimney, making it the perfect place to hang out undetected if he needed to stay close to home. He landed lightly on the roof, taking a quick survey of the area. It was empty so he took a seat against a wide brick chimney. Hot anger ebbed through his system, and he couldn’t help but replay everything that had happened at dinner. He felt guilty for yelling, but the idea that placating Nathalie was more important to his father than his relationship with his child sent fresh waves of rage through his veins.

In his anger, Chat didn’t hear a gentle tapping drawing nearer. It wasn’t until the footsteps were only a few feet away that he finally looked up, heart speeding up in panic. Thankfully it was a woman clad in blue who appeared from behind the chimney. Her eyes widened when she spotted him.  


“We really must stop meeting like this kitten.”

“Hey Mayura,” Chat responded calmer than he felt.

The woman was looking pretty rough, with ruffled hair and lilac circles under her eyes, though he doubted he looked much better. She consciously stood a cautious distance away from him. She glanced at him, her eyes flashing with what looked like concern when she met his eyes. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked after evaluating him.

“Nothing,” he answered defensively, hoping it wasn’t that obvious he was upset, “I’m fine.”

She scoffed incredulously. “Look, kid, I don’t know a lot about you, but we are the same in one way. We transform at night to run away from our problems. So I’ll ask again, what happened?”

Chat wanted to refuse. Well, he wanted to want to refuse. But some small part of him had been hoping for someone to talk to. Someone to pour his frustrations onto. Preferably not a supervillain but he was past the point of caring. Besides, Mayura seemed just as messed up as he was, if anyone was going to understand, it was her.

He grimaced, “My family- it’s uh, complicated. Holidays make it worse because everyone else is so happy. I feel like I’m not, well I feel like I’m just a chore to people, like people only spend time with me during the holidays because it’s an expectation, not because they want to.”

He sniffled. He really shouldn’t talk about his personal life, especially not to a supervillain. But it was as if a dam had broken and all the words came tumbling out of him before he could stop them.

“And I can’t help but feel like I’m just not good enough. I try my best at everything everyone wants from me but it’s never enough for my family! He- uh, they, never act like I’m not worth being around because of the sad memories that come with me.”

Mayura stepped forward sympathetically and placed a feather-light hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice quiet and sincere, “That is a terribly heavy cross to bear, especially at your age. You deserve better.” 

She glared up at the sky, “I wish there was something I could do to help you,” she said in a voice so distraught Chat wondered if it was just him that she was talking about.

“Hey, Mayura,”

“Hm?”

“Why are you out here tonight? You said it yourself that we both transform at night to escape something.”

She smiled ruefully and sighed, “I did say that, didn’t I. But I’m not going to dump my emotional problems on a kid your age who’s already dealing with enough on his own.”

“You don’t know my age,” he grumbled. “Besides,” he protested, “you should talk to somebody, and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to talk to anyone in your life about it. Plus I swear you telling me about whatever happened won’t make me upset or anything.”

Mayura laughed. “You’re right kitten, but you didn’t have to say it.”

He grinned, “So…”

She relented cautiously, “I am a bit conflicted about some things I suppose. I can never bring joy to the people I love, no matter how much I try. I wish there was more I could do. And I worry that I am being selfish, and I’m letting my emotions get in the way of the thing that would truly bring them joy.” Her vague summary seemed to be the most emotional vulnerability she could handle at the moment, and she circled her arms around herself protectively.

“It hurts,” Chat agreed, “Not being enough for someone. But I wouldn’t worry, I’m sure you bring the people you love joy.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Chat piped up. “Shouldn’t you be sitting, or inside or something? I saw how weak you were in that fight a few weeks ago. I was worried.”

“You shouldn’t worry, I’m fine,” Mayura said shortly. Her fingers brushed lightly across her miraculous, and guilt flickered across her face. “My miraculous,” she continued hesitantly, “It used to hurt me.” She looked away from him. “It’s fixed now.”

“Then why the hell did you even-” Chat blurted out before he could stop himself, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Thankfully, Mayura laughed, though it wasn’t really the reaction he was expecting. “Oh, kitten you really need a better filter.”

He nodded sheepishly, hair falling into his eyes. “Clearly.”

Somewhere in the city, a clock chimed midnight. Snow had begun to drift gently from the sky. 

“Merry Christmas Mayura.”

Mayura gave him an almost affectionate look before pushing his hair out of his face with her fingers. It was something his mom had done before her disappearance. Mayura quickly removed her hand, guilt flashing across her face. 

“Merry Christmas Chat Noir,” she whispered.  
*****************  
Ladybug was too cute. Chat worried that he was about to literally melt into a little puddle of cuteness right that second. He took the little pouch she held out to him (black and patterned with little green pawprints) (god she was adorable) and found it was full of tiny chocolate chip cookies. 

“Merry Christmas Chaton!” She exclaimed happily before turning to the inevitable magic shitshow that had brought them together in the first place. “I figured Hawkmoth couldn’t resist releasing an akuma on Christmas so I made you a present just in case.”

His lady’s foresight was excellent Chat thought, looking across the red and green tinseled destruction. “Thank you m’ladybug. I didn’t get you a gift though- Oh!” Chat quickly unhooked his bell from his zipper and handed it to Ladybug. She stared at him in confusion.

“Your gift is you get to wear the bell for this akuma attack.” He explained with a goofy smile.

“Gee lucky me,” she responded sarcastically, but hooked it to her costume and grinned at him anyway. “Now let’s go kick some akuma butt!” 

The akuma was one of Hawkmoth’s weirder creations. It looked sort of human, but with shaggy goat legs, black devil horns, and a long lolling tongue hanging out of its mouth. A sack full of smartphones was slung over its shoulder.

“Ew.” Ladybug decided, looking disdainfully at the creature.

“I am Krampus!” the thing rasped furiously, “I will eat the naughty children who spend all their time on their phones, instead of spending time with their families on Christmas!”

“Oh, so it’s a boomer,” Chat commented. “You know adults do that too!” He shouted at the thing before he could help himself.

“He’s right,” said a deadpan feminine voice, “I’d much rather be on my phone and ignoring my family than doing this.” Mayura stepped out from behind Krampus (who glared at her and continued flinging cars and tangling civilians in tinsel). She rolled her eyes and plucked a feather from her fan halfheartedly. 

“Ugh, Mayura’s here too?” Ladybug complained, muscles tensing to attack. “Here’s the plan Chat Noir, I’ll take on Mayura, you try to get the akumatized object.”

Chat nodded (a little sad he couldn’t annoy Mayura during the fight) and the two parted ways. Krampus wasn’t a particularly large opponent but he was plenty strong, and Chat found himself thrilled by the challenge. The adrenaline flooded his brain and his sore muscles began to relax. After several minutes of fighting Chat snatched the sack Krampus had been using to hold all the stolen phones.

He turned to his lady to give it to her but found her struggling against Mayura, who had her arms pinned to her back. A flash of panic shot through his brain. She could easily steal Ladybug’s miraculous in seconds, and he had a feeling that opportunity made their nighttime truce null and void. Thankfully after a moment Mayura winked at him and loosened her grip allowing Ladybug to wrench herself free.

“Glad you could escape,” he said to Ladybug as he handed her the akumatized object.

“...Yeah,” she murmured noncommittally, her brow furrowed in suspicion. She broke the object and enacted her lucky charm, pink light sweeping across the city. Mayura and the destruction were nowhere to be seen. Chat was about to take off when Ladybug grabbed his wrist. “Chaton can we talk?”

He swallowed thickly, hoping his mask covered his blush. “‘Sure.”

The pair took to the roofs and settled about a block away from the fight. “Something’s different,” Ladybug said immediately as they sat down.

“What’s different?” He asked, nerves settling into the empty spaces the adrenaline had drained out of. If his lady found out about talking to Mayura she would be furious. She was still enraged by Master Fu’s capture and surrender, giving mercy to Mayura would be unforgivable, even if he thought she was redeemable. He hoped she didn’t suspect anything.

“I think Mayura is stronger than she has been in the past. Before she was strong because of her sentimonsters, but she wasn’t all that strong in a fight. Today she was a force of nature. I think whatever made her weak before isn’t an issue anymore. She’s a bigger threat than ever.” 

“If that’s the case,” Chat responded cautiously, trying to think of a way to ease the conversation into possibly trusting Mayura, “Then how did you escape her today? Do you think she let you go on purpose?”

“Oh, definitely not.” Ladybug said firmly, “Well, she did loosen her grip, but I don’t think it was out of mercy or anything. She’s clearly the strategist of the villain team, and she’s dedicated. She’s planning something, and she needs me to have my miraculous, or she wants us to trust her to achieve it.”

“It’s a good thing she’s not going to get our trust,” Chat agreed weakly.

“Exactly. For our safety and the city’s, we cannot fall for anything she’s plotting. 

Right. Don’t trust her. Don’t fall for anything she’s plotting. 

“Oh, here Chat Noir, you need your bell back. Thanks for that little Christmas present,” she giggled, her hands working gently to hook the bell back into place. She was so close he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. She smelled faintly of almond shampoo. When the bell was clipped into place Ladybug’s hands lingered for a moment. “Thanks for being such a good partner Chat Noir,” she murmured, smiling up at him warmly, “Even with secret identities, I feel I can always trust you.”  
Ladybug’s miraculous beeped and she stood up quickly, giving him a little wave and zipping into the midmorning sunshine. 

“I feel I can always trust you.” Chat lowered his head into his hands, guilt swelling in his heart. He sat there until the sky began to darken with stormclouds, curled up and alone, in the same position he sat in when he was dreaming of lonely cages and binding chains.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do I do chapter summaries? I can't remember if I add them or not. Oh well. Anyway, Adrien faces a tough akuma and Nathalie is bird mom.

“Hey, Mayura?”

“Hm?”

“How do you fight in those tall ass heels?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Chat sat on a chimney above her, swinging his legs like a small child. He was barely visible against the darkening sky. 

“I’m used to it,” Mayura answered after studying the boy for a moment. He was thinner than she remembered, and the exposed skin of his face looked pale. Not that she cared. Or worried about him. At all.

Chat wrinkled his nose, “I once had to fight in heels, during Reflecta, let me tell you that was not fun. The fact that you do that willingly is beyond me.” 

“If you ever stand close to Hawkmoth, you’ll understand my height complex.” She retorted before she could stop herself. There was an unspoken rule not to talk of their respective partners when the two met up at night, in the location of the day’s akuma attack. Mayura blanched slightly.

“Somehow I doubt I’ll be that near to Hawkmoth anytime soon,” Chat supplied with a tight smile, “If all goes well.”

“That’s the hope,” Mayura muttered to herself. Chat’s cat ears pricked forward. Damn his super-powered hearing. 

The boy gave her a lopsided grin, “Aw you care about me!”

“I don’t care about anything,” she said primly, knowing damn well it was bullshit.

Chat hopped down from the chimney and sat next to her. The closeness revealed faint waves of comfort, exhaustion, and guilt pouring off the boy. She swiftly blocked out his emotions. 

“Aw May you know you love me!” Chat giggled at her, sticking out his tongue the way Adrien did when he was five.

She glared at him, “I can’t love anything kitten, I’m heartle- wait May? Seriously?”

“You call me kitten!” Chat protested, “So you have to have a nickname in return.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s either May or Ura, and Ura just sounds stupid so it’s better to accept your fate.”

Mayura grimaced at him, “They both sound stupid.” 

Chat giggled infectiously.

“You know,” Chat said, leaning his head against her shoulder, “Ladybug told me that you were dangerous and evil a few months ago.”

“Obviously, I am all of those things,” she said, ruffling his wild blonde hair affectionately. 

“No, you’re not,” he teased, “I thought maybe you were just pretending to like me so you could trick me. But it turns out you’re just lonely.”

“I’m not lonely.”

“You are, that’s why you decided to adopt a cat.”

“Oh I’ve adopted a cat have I?” Mayura smiled.

“Yup,” Chat said happily, “I’ve decided.”

“Well I’ve made a decision too,” Mayura said, poking the boy gently in the side, “If I’m adopting a cat, I get to make sure the cat is sleeping enough.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can and I will.”

Chat pouted.

“Go home kitten, it’s three in the morning.”

The boy sighed and stood. “I take it back you are evil!” Chat shouted as he vaulted off the roof.

“Goodnight to you too,” Mayura called before making her way back home.

***************

Mayura stared at the akuma as it wreaked havoc across the streets. She felt a tense itchy feeling settle across her skin. There was something different in this akuma she thought, something unhinged. Sure, plenty of akumas bordered on disturbed when they tasted the power high of magic, but this one was deranged all on its own. She turned to Hawkmoth, who stood stiffly next to her on the roof, watching the chaos unfold. When they had both decided to join the akuma, it was because they thought the akuma was strong, strong enough to turn the tide. Now they just looked at the creature with a rolling confliction passing between them. Of course, his confliction didn’t include a growing affection for one of the teenage superheroes, so she was decidedly more concerned.

The akuma was a young woman in her mid-twenties, who had been left at the altar when her would-be husband ran off with one of her bridesmaids. The man had been cheating on her for years, and the woman was (reasonably) pissed. She had turned into a skeleton made of the gold from her wedding bands and was clad in a dyed red wedding gown. She clutched a bouquet of blackened roses, which she threw at people, binding them in thorned rose bushes. Not only were the thorns giant and razor-sharp, anyone who was cut by them couldn’t help but spill all their darkest secrets and lies. She called herself Rogue Rose.

It was one of Hawkmoth’s more beautiful creations, but the sight of the struggling heroes had Mayura wringing her hands and tugging at her skirt in anxiety. 

“This is good,” whispered Emilie’s nonexistent sucrose voice. “My family will finally be whole again. They’ll finally be happy again.”

Mayura just pursed her lips. 

The heroes were beginning to tire. Rogue Rose was steadily advancing on them, backing the teens against a building. Ladybug glanced around wildly, searching for some kind of escape. Finding it, the girl pulled herself and Chat into an alleyway, out of the akuma’s view. 

Mayura practically sighed in relief.

“This akuma is powerful,” Hawkmoth said gently, not looking at her. “If she succeeds we won’t have to touch a miraculous ever again.” He was clearly trying to soothe her.

“Are you reading my emotions?” Mayura asked.

“I don’t have to,” he said, nodding to the fistful of blue fabric she had been clutching. She let her hands fall to her sides. 

“You’re anxious?”

“No.” 

Hawkmoth gave her an incredulous look, which she pointedly ignored. 

“I’m going to go down there and see if there is an opportunity for an amok.”

“That could be dangerous,” He protested, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

“Everything we do is dangerous,” she retorted with a confident smirk. “I’m fine, and I’ll be careful.”

After a moment Hawkmoth sighed and removed his arm. “It is becoming increasingly clear that I have a difficult time saying no to you.”

She grinned, “That is an excellent trait to have.”

Mayura dropped onto the street, her eyes sweeping across the rubble. A tidal wave of civilian panic fit for a sentimonster flooded her senses. She ignored it.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were hidden in the same alley across the street, whispering feverishly to each other. Ladybug called on her lucky charm but found no use for the spotted fabric that landed in her palms. The girl shoved it into Chat’s hand before whispering something to him. After further deliberation, Chat ran out of the alley and swung his baton dramatically, calling insults to the akuma. It was a thinly veiled distraction, but an effective one nonetheless, as he had the woman’s full attention and Ladybug swung discretely from the alley and ran off. 

The girl was likely going to the miracle box, to call upon other heroes. A sound plan, If she weren’t leaving Chat exposed and on his own. Mayura’s attempts at smothering her panic were quickly growing futile. 

The boy was doing a remarkable job of defending himself from Rogue Rose’s merciless attacks, but it was clear he was struggling. Sweat dripped from his chin and his breathing dissolved into increasingly ragged panting. 

Mayura crept closer. She prayed Ladybug would be quick.

Finally, Chat’s energy was exhausted and the boy stumbled in the rubble. He was immediately encased in a tangle of thorns. Mayura felt her heart stop.

The akuma stalked towards Chat Noir, eyes alight with rage, before being surrounded by a ring of multicolored teenage superheroes. The team of heroes found themselves with no freedom to rescue Chat Noir between the vicious attacks of the akuma. Cursing, Mayura rushed to where Chat was pinned in the roses. He had dirty tear tracks down his cheeks, and the poison thorns had left heavily bleeding gashes across the boy’s skin. 

“Shit kid,” Mayura whispered, as she yanked at the thorns trapping him. 

“I have a crush on Ladybug!” the boy blurted before clamping his mouth shut.

“I’m sure she likes you too kitten,” Mayura said dismissively, stabbing her fan into the toxic plant. It barely scratched the damn thing.

“I don’t think my dad cares about me.”

Mayura clenched her fists. “I’m sure he does,” she yanked at the vines, “and if he doesn’t I’ll kill him.”

“I have nightmares of being trapped in cages.”

She dug her fingernails into the plant. “I have nightmares too. About not being able to save the people I care about.”

Chat’s blood was slick against her palms. She began to pull more frantically. “Can you cataclysm the thorns?”

Chat shook his head. The boy was alarmingly pale. Blood dyed his hair. His lips were bleeding from where he had sunk his teeth in them, a futile attempt to defy the compelling magic.

“May, I’m really scared.”

“Kitten please, try to resist the magic, I’m going to get you out.”

The plants were indestructible. Mayura gave a frustrated groan and looked for another solution. It was clear that the heroes were far from succeeding. It was all they could do to keep the akuma away from Chat and the civilians, nevermind actually land a blow. The fastest way to free the boy was to get Hawkmoth to recall the akuma, but that was easier said than done. He didn’t care if the heroes got injured by his creations.

“He may if I were injured…” Mayura thought faintly. If she cut herself on the thorns both of their identities could be at risk, he’d probably sense her emotions and find her. He’d have no choice but to recall it. But that would also mean he’d be close to Chat Noir, putting the boy’s secrets at risk. His identity, their secret truce, if Hawkmoth ever found out about any of it it would be a disaster. 

Mayura whirled to face Chat Noir. “Kitten, where’s the lucky charm Ladybug gave you? That fabric?”

The boy jerked his head up, motioning to where his hand was pinned above his head, still clutching the spotted fabric. She grabbed it and folded it into a gag. 

“I’m sorry to do this kid but I have to make sure you can’t reveal any more of your secrets. I need to get Hawkmoth over here, but I swear I won’t let him take your miraculous.”

Chat kept his lips pressed tightly together but he nodded in understanding. She stepped closer to put the gag in his mouth. His lips pried themselves apart before she could.

“My name is Adrien Agreste,” he choked, voice thick with magic.

Shit.

Oh shit.

The fabric nearly slipped from Mayura’s hands.

Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste.

And the boy was going to bleed out if she didn’t pull herself together.

“Fuck my life,” she spat as she gagged Adri-Chat Noir. Without giving herself time to think (or more accurately: have a panic attack) the woman jammed her hand into one of the thorns and let it rip open the skin on her palm. Chat gasped into the fabric. Mayura let the biting pain and her repressed panic overwhelm her.

“Please let him be reading my emotions,” she prayed.

Magic began to overwhelm her senses. She could feel it latching on to every hidden feeling and unspoken memory. Every lie she ever told rolled in anticipation on her tongue. Her lips began to move on their own accord before she clamped her uninjured hand over them.

After an excruciating moment, Hawkmoth dropped to her side, eyes searching her for the source of her panic. She held out her bleeding palm to him. 

“How did this-” he started gently before silencing at the sight of her pained expression.

“Please-” she choked, dropping to her knees from the effort to keep herself from revealing the secrets swirling in her mouth, “-just recall it.” She bit her shaking hand to keep from saying anything else. The man nodded.

She squeezed her eyes shut until the compulsion subsided. When she opened her eyes the akuma and all her roses were gone. The streets were still in ruin but the ladybug cure would easily fix that. Chat was surrounded by his concerned friends. His injuries remained, as did hers, but the magic was gone.

Mayura breathed a sigh of relief before Hawkmoth picked her up and began to retreat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his shoulder, not meaning a damn word, “I didn’t mean to prevent us from succeeding.”

“Of course not,” he replied softly, sending pangs of guilt through her heart, “It is never a loss to ensure your safety.” 

Oh god, the guilt was going to fucking kill her. Pink light washed over the city, and Mayura’s skin sewed itself back together.

“If I may ask,” he continued, unaware of her troubled expression, “How did your hand get cut on the roses?”

Well if controlling parents taught her anything it was how to lie on the spot. “I was trying to get Chat Noir's ring from him when he got stuck. He called on his cataclysm and I had to jerk my hand away. A thorn caught my skin as I pulled away.”

Hawkmoth winced on her behalf. “Did you reveal anything to the boy?”

“I almost told him my name, but I stopped myself.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

Mayura grimaced, “Nothing more than his juvenile crush on Ladybug. And he thinks your mask is stupid.” 

Hawkmoth chuckled. Mayura smiled to herself. 

**************  
Six minutes.

Six minutes until Adrien was expecting her for dinner.

Six minutes to pull herself together and pretend she hadn’t spent the past hour hyperventilating in a bathroom. 

“Fuck,” Nathalie choked as another wave of emotions caught in her throat.

Adrien was Chat Noir. 

All this time she had been trying to make that kid happy. To bring his mother back. To make his family whole again. 

But he was the one she had been fighting the entire damn time. 

He was the same kid who decided that he would give his childhood to stopping her. That the very world his father told him was cruel was worth everything he could give. 

And none of it was worth it.

Every time Chat Noir had ever been hurt during an attack shot through her mind in staccato bursts. Nathalie fought to keep her breathing even. 

“It was necessary,” crooned Emilie’s voice, “If he knew why you do this, he would want it. He would want me back, so he could be happy again. No matter the cost. If you take his miraculous you’ll be closer to succeeding. To giving him his childhood back.”

Green eyes looked at her expectantly.

But they weren’t Emilie’s. Not anymore. 

“No,” Nathalie thought vehemently, clutching her miraculous until her knuckles whitened, “he wouldn’t want this.”

“I don’t want this.”

“And I will never let anyone hurt that boy again.”

There was a gentle knock at the door. “Nathalie?” piped Adrien’s voice.

“Yes?” Nathalie answered weakly, opening the door.

“Um, I was wondering if I could skip dinner,” Adrien murmured, not looking at her. 

Just looking at the boy was breaking Nathalie’s heart. Now that she knew his identity the resemblance was impossible to ignore. Every sleepless night and akuma battle was apparent on his young face.

“Why?” Nathalie asked, feigning ignorance, “Are you getting sick?” 

Adrien shook his head, but Nathalie placed a hand on his forehead anyway, more to soothe her need to comfort her kid than fear of a fever. Adrien relaxed into the touch.

“You can skip dinner, but I’m going to text the chef to bring you some soup in your room. You need something in your stomach.” 

Adrien nodded slowly, exhaustion clear in his eyes. 

“Come on,” Nathalie said, wrapping a supporting arm around the boy, “Let’s get you upstairs.”

By the time they reached Adrien’s room, he was practically asleep against her shoulder.

“Alright there you go,” she whispered, sitting him on the bed. 

Adrien kicked off his shoes and collapsed on top of the covers. Nathalie carefully yanked one of his blankets out from under him and laid it on top of the boy. 

“Hey, Nath?” slurred Adrien.

“Hm?”

“Will you stay? ‘Till I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” she smiled, sitting primly at the edge of the bed. Nathalie combed her fingers gently through the boy’s wild blonde hair until he nodded off. 

Nathalie gingerly pressed a kiss into his hairline. “Goodnight kitten.”

Something startled beneath Adrien’s sheets. A black Kwami phased through the bedding, watching her with wide reflective eyes. Nathalie looked right back, and for a long apprehensive moment, the two stood motionless, staring at each other in a suspension of mutual protectiveness and distrust. Finally, Nathalie bowed her head at the creature submissively. “Thank you,” she whispered to it, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my sister for coming up with Rogue Rose's name.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie speaks with Emilie. This isn't a full chapter, more of a continuation of the last one. Not to worry though, the next chapter will be the normal length.

Nathalie had always avoided the basement. It had always felt like a sanctuary for eyes that weren’t her own. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Too much light pouring in from the giant window, blinding her yet still not enough the chase away the darkness settled in the room’s corners. It was always silent, yet every sound was magnified, the click of her heels echoing back at her in a stampede of distorted footfalls disturbing the fragile peace. 

And it was too alive.

And too dead.

Nathalie stood alone at Emilie’s coffin, looking at the budding garden beds and flitting butterflies. “Such a shame,” Nathalie couldn’t help but think, “to live your life in a place devoted to the dead.”

“I refuse to do that anymore.”

Nathalie looked up firmly, eyes locking onto the image of the woman who had been haunting her for months. She’d never dared to look directly at her after the nightmares started. Emilie. She was still so beautiful. But things had changed. The woman’s skin was pale and waxen. Her nails had turned translucent. Nathalie squirmed at the sight but held her gaze.

“I have spent a long time begging for your forgiveness,” Nathalie told the woman, voice surprisingly steady. “I will not do that now because I do not feel bad for what I am about to do. However, I do hope you have it in your heart to understand. I have no intention of existing for you, or Gabriel anymore. I truly care for you both. But I will not allow this to continue any longer.”

Nathalie stood a little straighter. “I hope that as Adrien’s mother you will understand why this must end, even at your expense.”

Nathalie stood in silence until she felt some semblance of resolution. She turned on her heel and walked to where a control panel was hidden in the wall and pressed a button. With a quiet mechanical whir, the glass on the window receded. She pressed another button and knew with a confident smile that the window in the lair had opened as well. 

Nathalie watched patiently as the butterflies leisurely found their ways into the sweet night air, no longer trapped in Emilie’s shadows. When the last pair of white wings had turned into a star in the distance, Nathalie called on Duusu. 

“How do you feel about sneaking out one last time?” She asked the kwami with a small smile.

Duusu whooped in compliance, eyes glinting mischievously.

Nathalie closed her eyes, a feeling she couldn’t place coming over her. “Well then, Duusu, transform me.”

Mayura slipped out the window with the ease of the freed butterflies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little resolution for y'all before it all goes to shit.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Started making it, had a breakdown, Bon Appetite.

Adrien woke with an unfamiliar ease settled in his chest. There were a million and a half reasons he should have been panicking, but the feeling of a deep peaceful sleep washed over him in a warm numbing wave. The darkness of his room and the warmth of his bedsheets pressed like a weight against his eyelids, and the boy slipped in and out of a gentle sleep, more for the joy of sleeping pleasantly than actual exhaustion. 

After savoring the mercy of a dreamless sleep Adrien finally rolled out of bed, stretching with the leisure of a cat in sunlight. His alarm clock still read four am, but he wasn’t too concerned considering he had gone to bed at like six. A bowl of cold soup sat on his desk.

“I should be freaking out, right?” Adrien asked Plagg, who was sprawled on the bedside table eating a wedge of cheese. “I mean, Mayura knows my identity.”

Plagg seemed (against all odds) even less concerned than Adrien, “Considering Hawkmoth hasn’t come knocking on your door, I think we’re in the clear.”

“You really think May would choose to protect my identity over Hawkmoth?”

“I think she’s already made her decision,” Plagg said with a thoughtful expression Adrien didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

“You should go back to the site of the akuma,” Plagg responded, ignoring Adrien’s question. “Like how you normally meet up.”

“When did you get all pro-Mayura?” Adrien inquired, fiddling with his ring.

“I still don’t like her,” Plagg spat with his usual sarcasm, “But I trust her.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Just transform.”

So Adrien did.

**************

The sky was beginning to lighten by the time Chat reached the site of the previous day’s akuma attack. The sight of the pristine roads and untouched buildings still sent little shivers down his spine. He could so clearly remember the feeling of lying limp on those broken streets, magic laced in his blood. 

It seemed he was not the only one who wasn’t fond of the scene. Mayura sat impossibly balanced on a lampost, eyes fixed stubbornly on the sky. Chat followed her gaze to see a pale white butterfly flitting across the sky, stark against the grey-blue sky.

“Mayura?” he called, but her name caught in his throat. The woman noticed him anyway and hopped down primly. 

“You should be at home resting,” she told him firmly, a fond smile tugging at her lips anyway. 

“Been there done that,” he replied, their usual banter feeling stilted, “Now I’m off to find some new trouble to get myself into.”

“You are going to give me an aneurysm one day, you know that kid?” Mayura huffed, hands settling disapprovingly on her hips.

Chat gave a quick laugh, “Besides, I don’t need to rest, I slept really well last night.”

“No nightmares? Mayura asked gently.”

“Nope.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” the woman smiled, “I was worried when you said the nightmares were about being trapped in cages. I thought being trapped yesterday would almost certainly make them worse.”

“Me too,” Chat admitted, “But you were there to help me, and my friends came to protect me. I sort of realized that if I ever am trapped, I will always have someone who cares about me there to help.”

“Certainly,” Mayura added a little wistfully, “You are a good kid, you will always have someone to protect you.”

“What about your nightmares?”

“Pardon?”

“You said that you have nightmares about not being able to help the people you care about, how are those?”

Mayura shrugged, “I suppose I have dealt with my fears to some extent as well. I haven’t slept so I don’t know exactly, but I was able to help you when you were trapped, and I think I’ve realized I am capable of helping the other people I care for as well.”

Chat grinned, “Heck yeah you can! I’m happy for you.”

Mayura gave him an amused hum before her face grew serious.

“I didn’t tell him,” she murmured, “Hawkmoth.”

“I know,” Chat whispered back, leaning his head against her shoulder.

“I’m going to talk to him,” she said decisively, “I will try to make him see reason.”

“He could hurt you,” Chat protested, “He could try to akumatize you. You shouldn’t put yourself at risk to protect me.”

“I can do whatever I want to protect you,” Mayura replied smoothly, “And besides, Hawkmoth would never hurt me, or akumatize me without my consent.”

“What a gentleman,” Chat replied sarcastically.

“He actually is a gentleman,” she smiled, “Just not to you.”

Something like realization flashed in Mayura’s eyes and the woman’s smile faded.

“Bullshit.” Chat said ignoring the flickering expressions on Mayura’s face, “And anyway, he could still akumatize someone else, and take your miraculous from you or turn you into his minion!”

“He couldn’t actually. I released the butterflies,” she told him, her fingers combing through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it.

“You what?” Chat gaped at her, “He’s going to be so pissed.”

“I know,” Mayura responded nonchalantly despite her Cheshire cat grin.

“Wow,” Chat laughed, “You’re not like other moms, you’re like, a cool mom.”

He heard Mayura’s breath catch before giving a strained laugh at the reference. “Did I just call her my-” Chat thought before his brain short-circuited.

“Shit- I mean, I didn’t mean, actually I did, but I just- sorry.”

Mayura smiled and ruffled his hair, “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize.”

“It’s just,” Chat continued, unsatisfied, “You know my identity, so you probably know that I don’t- that my mom- well I just think of you-”

Mayura squeezed a protective arm around the boy’s shoulders, “You don’t have to say it.”

“You, and my dad’s employee, have taken care of me since then. Taken care me, like a mom does.”

Mayura laughed gently at that, “I don’t think your dad’s employee does enough for you, though neither do I to be honest. Not enough to be good mother figures.”

Chat glared at her, “Don’t you dare insult Nath or I’m revoking your mom privileges.”

Mayura smiled at him warmly. “Okay, I won’t ‘insult’ her.”

“So you don’t mind it,” Chat asked happily, “being like a mom to me?”

“If you don’t mind it, being the son of a very bad woman.”

“You’re not a bad person-” Chat protested but was cut off by an incredulously arched eyebrow.

“Okay you’re a little bit of a bad person, but you’re trying to be a better person which surely counts for something.”

“Does it really?” Asked a seething voice. The pair turned abruptly to find Ladybug at their backs, arms crossed and a phone wedged in one hand.

“My Lady,” Chat exclaimed guiltily, his heart sinking to his stomach, “you don’t- this isn’t- how did you find me?”

Ladybug looked at Chat with steely eyes, before holding up the phone. The screen was pulled up to the Ladyblog, it’s page bombarded with grainy images of Chat and Mayura that couldn’t have been taken more than a few minutes past. Already there was a conspiracy story about the two, with dozens of comments.

“Shit,” Mayura whispered.

“Alya,” Chat groaned loudly, looking around for his friend. Alya’s investigative skills were just a little too good sometimes.

Alya sheepishly emerged from where she had been crouched in an alleyway, armed with pink flannel pajamas and a cell phone. “Sorry Chat, the story was just too good.”

Mayura glared daggers at the girl. Alya shrunk back.

“Don’t apologize,” Ladybug growled at Alya. “What the hell Chat Noir? Conspiring with the enemy, I can’t believe you!” Betrayal laced through the girl’s voice.

“I swear it’s not like that, my lady I would never betray you!”

“Then why are you just hanging out with the woman who’s trying to destroy us? What the hell do you call that? Because it sure seems like a betrayal to me!”

“She’s not trying to destroy us Ladybug! Mayura is trying to be good can’t we give her a chance?” All his protests felt weak, spilling from his mouth in a frantic tangle of words. He could feel his hands shaking.

“Give her a chance?” Ladybug asked, voice deathly low. “Did you just fucking forget what happened the last time we gave a villain a chance. We gave Hawkmoth the chance to change and now look! The guardian is a goddamn amnesiac and I- and the entire city’s safety rests on my shoulders alone! Mine!”

Tears filled the girl’s blue eyes. “And you just what, go and hang out with the bitch trying to kill us whenever the mood strikes you? What if it’s a trick? What if she had hurt you? Then it would be my fault too! I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you!”

Chat reached for her, guilt swimming in his chest. “I’m sorry, my lady I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

Ladybug just glared at her friend.

“I can explain, I promise Mayura won’t hurt us. She’s my friend.”

Mayura smiled at Chat before snarling at Alya, “Stop live streaming this.”

“You’re not helping,” Chat told Mayura through gritted teeth, “Be nice to my friends.”

Mayura held up her hands in mock defeat. Alya kept the camera trained on them.

Ladybug just stared at them, hurt and distrust evident on her face. The sky continued to lighten, and the streets were beginning to stir. They were going to draw a crowd. 

“She’s my friend,” Chat repeated to Ladybug, voice slow and submissive, “I helped her once on accident. Mayura returned the favor by helping me during the attacks. We sort of- have a truce.”

Ladybug scoffed, but moved closer to Chat Noir, her arms dropping to her sides. Despite her anger, she was still willing to hear him out. Chat felt something like hope flutter in the back of his brain.

“She’s been protecting me, and you too sometimes, for a while. She even hid my identity from Hawkmoth in the battle yesterday, so please can’t we give her a chance?”

“She knows your identity?” Ladybug screeched, her anger resurfacing.

Chat groaned internally. That was probably not the best time to bring that little fact up. Oh well.

“Yeah, I told her when I was under the truth spell. But she rescued me! And she hid my identity from Hawkmoth!”

“Is that so?” growled a low voice.

“Hawkmoth,” Ladybug gasped.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” cursed Mayura, whirling around and pulling Chat behind her protectively. Chat felt a rush of security despite being an inch taller than the woman (thanks puberty). Ladybug eyed the gesture wearily, before taking a defensive stance next to her partner. 

“Mayura, what is going on?” Hawkmoth asked, his voice in a strained calm despite the anger evident on his features.

“I suppose I’ve made it clear that I no longer wish to continue this,” responded Mayura, voice cool and professional. “That I no longer have it in me to fight these kids.”

Chat duly noticed that Alya was still filming.

"You could have made that point without releasing all the akumas." 

"Perhaps, but I needed a certain amount of insurance, in case this conversation ends badly."

“You know I would never force you to fight,” Hawkmoth said to Mayura, tenderness flickering on his face, “If you don’t wish to continue I will do this alone. You never have to even see a miraculous or fight again, I swear.”

Mayura smiled sadly, “I know, I know you wouldn’t. Unfortunately, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what is it you need from me.”

“I need this to stop. All of it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I know,” Mayura gave him probably the most heartbreaking smile Chat had ever seen in his life, “and I can’t let you hurt these kids.”

“Why,” the man pleaded at her, his voice gravelly, “You know why we do this, the good it could bring. Why has your loyalty changed?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you it hasn’t,” she said, placing a hand gingerly against his cheek.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on?” Ladybug whispered in Chat’s ear.

“Uh, I think they’re fighting, but I’m not entirely sure.” Chat replied watching the two adults in confusion. There was a lot of subtext going on that Chat deeply did not want to think about right then.

“You’re right,” Hawkmoth told her, gently removing her hand, “I don’t believe you. What has changed?”

“It seems I have grown an unexpected affection for cats.” She replied easily, smiling fondly at Chat, “I can’t help but care for him as my own.” Chat gave a careful grin in return.

“And how long have you been harboring this secret friendship?”

“Months.”

“And you have been sabotaging our plans.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

Hurt contorted the man’s face. “Apparently,” he growled, anger building in his voice, “I shouldn’t have trusted you so dearly.”

“I didn’t mean for this to become a betrayal. But surely you of all people can understand what it’s like to wish to protect your child.”

Mayura flinched the moment it came out of her mouth. Apparently, a line had been crossed.

Hawkmoth sneered at her, which was strange considering he had only seemed to treat his partner with a delicate reverence. 

“Yes, I know what that is like, you Mayura, on the other hand, do not.” The pain in his voice hardened. “All you know how to do is get too attached to other people’s children.”

Mayura gasped softly. 

White-hot rage split through Chat’s ribcage like lightning. He didn’t fully understand what that comment referred to but the malice was clear. How dare that man speak to her like that. 

Hawkmoth blanched immediately, “No, I’m so sorry please, I didn’t-”

Mayura’s fist collided neatly with his jaw.

“Oh shit,” Ladybug hissed, clearly impressed.

The man stumbled back despite being like twice Mayura’s size. After a moment he straightened defeatedly, fingers pressed against his jaw. 

“Mayura I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“I know,” she replied emotionlessly.

“You’ve truly made up your mind about this. You won’t come home until this is truly over.”

“That is correct.”

He gave her a frustrated sigh, “I won’t fight you.”

“That,” she said dangerously, “is a very good decision.”

“Please just,” he looked at her pleadingly, “Let’s talk about this, give me some time to decide.”

“We have nothing to talk about. If you continue this you will fight me whether you want to or not. That will not change.”

“You’re not giving me a choice in the matter!”

“No, I’m not,” Mayura said firmly. Her emotionless facade was unrecognizable from the woman he knew. Hawkmoth looked equally as apprehensive of this version of Mayura.

The man raked a hand across his masked scalp, seemingly forgetting he was transformed. After a long wavering moment, he relented. “Fine. This ends. Just- god, come home Mayura. I’ll give you the miraculous, I’ll surrender our identities, anything, If you’ll just come home with me and explain. Give me the chance to understand you.”

Mayura’s icy gaze on the man relented. “Go home,” she told him, “I’ll join you soon.”

He looked at Mayura as if to say more, but turned on his heel and retreated quietly. 

The air stood still. It seemed nobody was sure what to do.

“Is that it?” asked Ladybug awkwardly, “Was that, like, the end of it?”

Mayura sniffled, her deadpan mask falling away.

Chat slung an arm around her shoulders, “I dunno it’s still not too late to kill that guy. You okay?”

Mayura gave a watery smile. “Please don’t kill anyone, I’m fine.” She lowered her voice, eyeing Alya and the deeply confused crowd of people watching them, “I’ll meet you two this evening at the Dupain-Cheng bakery with the miraculouses.”

Ladybug quirked an eyebrow, “Why the bakery?”

“Because they make good macarons and I plan on eating my feelings before fucking over my life any more than I already have.”

“Fair point. How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Ladybug asked halfheartedly.

“You don’t. But it isn't.”

Ladybug huffed but didn’t protest. Apparently punching Hawkmoth square in the face was a pretty convincing gesture of loyalty.

“Okay,” Ladybug said after a while, glancing between Chat and Mayura, “I’m going to do some crowd control, and you guys can have some time to talk. But afterward, Kitty, we need to talk as well.”

“Of course m’lady,” Chat agreed, giving her a grateful smile. The pigtailed girl gave a weak grin in return and walked off.

Chat turned to Mayura, who appeared to be concentrating very hard on not crying. “What- what happens now?”

“Now you tell me what flavor macarons you want me to buy you at the bakery tonight.”

“Pistachio.”

“You don’t actually like pistachio, you just like that it’s your shade of green.”

“Fine, I want chocolate.”

“Smart kid.”

Chat smiled. “Is everything gonna be okay?”

She squeezed his shoulder, “Of course, slowly but surely.” 

“Are you really going to go back with Hawkmoth?”

Mayura pursed her lips, clearly not wanting to deal with that particular topic. “Yes. I need to talk to him. And I need to talk to you too. I owe you some explanations.”

“Can’t we just eat macarons? And pretend like nothing’s changed.”

She smiled sadly. “I wish.”

“Mom?”

Chat felt the most bittersweet happiness when she looked at him. “Hm?”

“I love you. Thank you for what you did today.”

“Don’t thank me, you don’t even know how bad I’ve hurt you yet.”

He leaned his head against her shoulder, unsure of how to respond. She combed a hand absentmindedly through his hair. “But I love you too Kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so like, this chapter broke into my house and murdered me with safety scissors, so... that sucked. I'm not happy with this chapter because I hate writing conflict, but it was inevitable and now we are going to try and pick up the pieces. Thanks for reading <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same deal as chapter six, this is more of a continuation of the previous part than a fully fleshed out chapter. The next chapter will be the normal length and have the usual POV alteration.

Mayura had stayed with Chat a few minutes longer before leaving to follow her partner. Of course, she had left him with several reassurances and forehead kisses, but the anxiety of talking with Ladybug remained everpresent in his mind. The woman's retreating form was a dreaded reminder that he now had to talk to Ladybug. Without Mayura as backup.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was afraid of. His secrets had already been spilled, it wasn’t like they could damage their partnership anymore than they already had. Talking was inevitable, and explaining himself could only help his case. Right?

Chat watched absently as the crowds began to clear (thanks to Ladybug’s very firm efforts). There was just so much to be said. So many thoughts and feelings and three a.m. conversations that were just barely drifting on consciousness. What if he couldn’t find the right words? What if she didn’t understand? What if, even if he tried his hardest, things couldn’t ever go back to normal? Wouldn’t it be better to just not try, so he never had to learn whether or not he was good enough to mend everything he had broken?

Ah, so that was it.

Tremors ran through his hands. 

“Kitty?” Ladybug murmured, walking to his side, “Come sit with me?”

He nodded absently, following her to a secluded rooftop the obscured them from the crowd. The sun was too bright, and his hearing felt a little too muffled. There was static under his skin, its pressure slowly building.

He expected the questions to come tumbling out of her, the way they had earlier. Instead, Ladybug sat him down carefully and rubbed slow circles into his back.

“Can you speak?” Her voice was soft, each word enunciated with deliberate clarity.

He shook his head.

“Will you try to slow your breathing with me? I think you have too much oxygen in your system.”

He nodded. Ladybug took slow and deliberate breaths, motioning to him when to inhale and exhale. Some of the static in his brain cleared.

“Do you know what a sensory overload is?”

He looked at her blankly.

“Sometimes everything can feel like too much at once. Is that happening?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Ladybug gently squeezed his hand. “I want you to focus on the pressure I’m putting on your hand. Try not to think about anything else.”

He tried. After a while, the world looked a little less bright. Different sounds became recognizable, rather than assaulting his ears.

That was a car.

That was a bird.

That was the wind.

He turned to Ladybug. “My brain is normal again.”

“Your brain was never abnormal, just overstimulated.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“My papa has to do it with me sometimes if I have a panic attack.”

He gave her a weak smile. “Thanks m’lady.”

“Of course.” Her hand released his, but she continued to rub small circles into his back. “I know today has been a lot for you, but we do need to talk about it. If you start to feel like you’re drifting again just tell me, and we’ll take a break okay?”

“Got it.”

“Alright,” she sighed, a strained smile playing at her lips, “Will you help me understand what happened today? Just, tell me what you think I should know?”

After a moment Chat nodded. He stumbled into the story, trying to piece it together in his own mind as well. The accidental meeting, all the times they helped each other, going out and talking when the world was asleep so he could feel like he could breathe again. It wasn’t a chronological retelling by any means, he just let his words spill out in whatever fashion they chose. 

When he finished he expected to feel lighter. As if some of the pressure had been released from his system. It wasn’t really like that though. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was like. It wasn’t a resolution. It just sort of was. Everything was existing as it was, out in the open. The Chat Noir who fought crime with Ladybug and the Chat Noir who traded conversations with ex supervillains were existing together in an awkward reconciliation of personas. 

Ladybug was quiet. She looked at him, evaluating her own feelings. They sat in silence for a while, adjusting into each other’s feelings. 

Finally, she pursed her lips and began to speak, “I understand how this happened. I can see how these circumstances resulted in a friendship. I just can’t exactly grasp why. What made talking to her a more effective emotional outlet than one of us? Enough to allow this secret to progress so far?”

“Uh, I don’t have to-” He paused, trying to find the right words, “I don’t have to translate myself, for her to understand. I know I have your support, but with Mayura, I know I have her understanding.”

Ladybug hummed thoughtfully. 

“Penny for your thoughts m’lady?”

She nodded, “I want to understand why you chose to befriend her despite the risks. I still don’t exactly, and I don’t know that I will ever be fully able to. But I am not angry with you. I was earlier, and I said some things to you that I shouldn’t have. You have my full trust as my partner, and blowing up at you was counterproductive. I’m sorry about that”

She thought for a moment before continuing, choosing each word carefully.

“I do not want to have a lapse of communication like that in our partnership. I will work on proving to you that you are my priority as well, not just the safety of the city, so you can feel comfortable telling me things like that without fearing my reaction. In return, I would like it if you would take into consideration that subjects that involve the miraculous or the miraculous users do need to be more transparent in our partnership considering my role as the guardian.”

Chat considered that. He tried to find a way to neatly explain his tangle of feelings, “That is something we can both try to improve upon. I don’t know that this is a subject that we will ever fully understand each other on, but we can try to prevent excessive miscommunication that disrupts our friendship, or our roles as superheroes.”

Ladybug smiled. “We’re different people, how we deal with different things is never going to be exactly the same. Even though I still don’t understand or trust Mayura, I’m glad you were able to give her a second chance, considering it caused Hawkmoth’s surrender. Is there anything you need from me tonight when we meet up with her, to make this easier?”

Chat tapped his chin, “I guess just try to be nice to her? And maybe trust me to talk to her on my own, when we deal with like her identity and consequences and all that stuff.”

“You got it, Kitty.”

He smiled. “There’s probably a lot more we need to talk about huh?”

Ladybug sighed, “There is a lot more that we should talk about, but If I’m being honest I need some time to organize my feelings right now. Can we maybe just sit here for a while?”

Chat gave a relieved nod, “That sounds good. You can go home and get some space if you want.”

“No, I want to stay with you, If that’s alright.”

“That works for me.” 

The two friends relaxed into each other’s silences, eyes closed, separated within their own thoughts. It wasn’t the same as before, Chat decided, there was a conscious shift in their relationship. It was new and strange, but comfortable and unconditional all the same. He leaned back, and breathed slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your feedback on this story, it really helps me out with the writing process! As always I am super willing to explore topics or tropes that y'all are interested in so if you have something you want to see dealt with in this fic please feel free to tell me in the comments or message me @miraculousthoughtswithoutafilter on tumblr.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shamelessly emphasizes the fact that I love Sabine Cheng at any and all possible opportunities. Also like, angsty stuff happens idk.

Nathalie let herself pause at the other side of the office doors, bracing herself for the unavoidable. One hand hovered uncertainly by the door handle, trembling slightly. Once her adrenaline from the fight had receded she was left with a feeling of empty dread. Months of unspoken words stirred in her ribs, preparing to overflow. 

She had made up her mind to put an end to this, the moment she learned Adrien was Chat Noir. No matter what happened she would not have let any further harm come to that boy. If Gabriel had decided to continue with his plan she would have protected Adrien, no questions asked. If now he decided to renounce his surrender and continue to battle the heroes she would fight back, her job be damned. If he hated her for it then so be it.

But god, she hoped it was truly the end. That he would understand. Perhaps it was selfish to wish for him to choose her, to truly give up the miraculous because she asked, but she couldn’t help longing for it anyway. She had picked her side, no matter what happened, but a small part of her knew it would break her heart to lose Gabriel in doing so. She could only hope she would be enough to make him understand.

Should she knock?

Would it be better to just let herself in?

The door opened, Nathalie’s fingers remaining awkwardly stretched over where the handle had been.

Gabriel watched her silently from the opposite side of the doorframe, his appearance uncharacteristically ruffled. The man had discarded his jacket and tie, and strands of hair hung in his face. He had always had a tendency to run his hands through his hair when he was frustrated. 

He moved to the side and motioned for her to enter in a wordless invitation. Nathalie stepped forward, heart racing. The click of her heels against the tile felt deafening in the pressing silence. 

She wasn’t sure where to stand. 

Gabriel shut the door with deliberate care so as to not shatter their weighty quiet. When he turned to her his expression remained blank, despite the emotions pouring from his skin. Waves of anger, and hurt, and confusion clouded the room. Nathalie had to resist the urge to tear the peacock broach from her sweater, if only to relieve the pressure of his feelings within her heart.

She could only imagine the emotions he was reading from her. 

His eyes clung to her expectantly, but he didn’t move closer. Nathalie tried to think of what to say, what words could possibly encompass everything that had happened. No explanation found her.

“You must know,” she whispered at last, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Nathalie…” he breathed.

“I didn’t- god I never wanted it to be like this. I just wanted you to be whole again. I wanted Adrien to be whole again. I was willing to give anything for that, but now-”

Nathalie took a shuddering breath. “I can’t fight him, Gabriel. No matter what, I just can’t anymore. I won’t let anything touch that boy.”

He evaluated her carefully. “You truly care for him that much? To choose him over everything we’ve been through? Everything we’ve tried to achieve?” The pain in his voice tore at Nathalie’s heart.

“I- yes.” Her hands trembled. 

Waves of fresh hurt pulsed through the room. 

“I- I need you to tell me. Tell me how this happened.”

They were still standing too far apart. Nathalie pursed her lips. Emotions never had been her strong suit.

Finally, she began her story, a neat chronological summary of everything that had happened. Reliving each moment eased the tension in her system. Slowly emotion began to flow into her voice, recalling every nightly rendezvous with a new fondness. Her explanation slowly grew more disorganized, each little story spilling of its own accord.

“-And he tried to buy chips at three am even though I told him not to because that kid never listens to me.”

“He has a fondness for expensive cheeses which I’ve never seen in a teenage boy.”

“-Then he got startled by a squirrel and fell off the roof, and instead of getting up like a normal person he made several squirrel puns while lying on the sidewalk.”

As Nathalie told the stories her understanding of Chat Noir and Adrien began to bleed together. She had known, logically, that they were the same boy, but it had taken her longer to connect the two characters in her memory. It made sense, of course, they were both loyal and hardworking boys, and Adrien had always been a better person than any of the adults who raised him. God, she was so proud of that kid. Nathalie tried to keep her voice from wavering.

Her explanation finally tapered out, and Nathalie retreated back to silence, exhaustion flooding the empty space her secrets had left. She swayed slightly on her feet. When was the last time she had slept?

Gabriel eyed her wearily before striding towards her. Nathalie’s breath hitched in surprise when he placed a feather-light arm around her shoulders and guided her to the couch. “Come sit.”

“What?”

“Sit, you’re clearly exhausted.”

Nathalie looked at him, bewildered. “You’re… not mad?”

He sighed, “Nathalie I am so furious right now it hurts to look at you. But I spent months bitter and grieving and I took it out on you. I will not do that again.”

She said nothing. They sat down in unison, shoulders pressed together. 

“If I’m being honest, I detest this situation. I hate that you kept this from me, and I hate that you have chosen this friendship over our goal.” Gabriel ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “But I believe I understand now how this happened, and how much that child means to you.”

“Gabriel-”

“It is something I envy about you to some extent.”

She raised a brow, “What is?”

“How you can love children as fully as you do.”

“What are you talking about? You love Adrien.”

“I do, very much,” he confirmed, “But it does not come naturally to me. I do not know how to love him in a way he understands. But I see how you love Adrien, and Chat Noir too, I suppose. You manage to love children so deeply and naturally despite your best efforts. You show your love the way a parent should, even when you try not to. I can't even do that when I try to dedicate myself to it.”

Nathalie looked at him in surprise. She had been described as many things in her life, but loving had never been one. “I- I didn’t realize you noticed my affection for Adrien.”

“For a while, I hated that you understood how to care for my own son better than I did. Now I admire it about you. I am trying to learn from it.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, she gave a watery, “Thank you,” though it didn’t feel like an adequate expression of emotions. 

They sat in silence for a while, unsure of how to continue. Nathalie tried to pick her next move with care, feeling she was balanced precariously over dangerous territory. She shifted, knowing it was inevitable.

“You know I still want an answer. I need to know that this is going to end.” 

“Are you going to stay if it does?” 

Nathalie blinked.

“Because you’re my partner and my friend, so I couldn’t bear it if you left.”

She looked at him. “You’ll surrender the miraculous?”

He nodded.

“And nothing happens to my kid?”

“Of course.”

She smiled, “Then I stay.”

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. Hesitantly, he reached up and touched the brooch pinned to his shirt. Nooroo materialized in front of them, regarding Gabriel with silent understanding. The kwami nodded at Nathalie with the faintest smile, “Thank you, Miss Nathalie.”

She smiled, “My pleasure.”

Gabriel unpinned the jewel and the kwami disappeared. He shut his eyes for a moment, adjusting to being solitary from other’s emotions for the first time in months, before placing it in Nathalie’s outstretched palm. The cool weight of the miraculous almost felt like resolution in her hand.

“You know there will be consequences to this. Chat Noir may forgive you, but I doubt Ladybug will be so understanding of us.”

“I know, but what choice do I have? I want to protect him, and the people of Paris will have his head if they think he befriended a supervillain and didn’t retrieve the miraculous.”

“Unfortunately, that is very true.”

Nathalie deposited the miraculous in her blazer pocket. The room was still thick with emotions, but they were calming, and Nathalie felt her perception muddle with exhaustion. They still hadn’t talked about Emilie though. What all this meant for her. The very thought filled Nathalie with weariness. She let herself sink further into the couch cushions.

“Nathalie?”

“Hm?”

“Do you still have some time before you’re going to surrender our miraculouses?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Try to get some rest until then.”

Her brain delighted at the suggestion. Rest sounded like a fantastic idea. However, Nathalie being Nathalie had to protest. “We still have to talk about-”

“Later?”

Her eyes drifted shut without protest. Stupid body, betraying her by having needs. “Sure, later.”

Gabriel chuckled, despite the general suckiness of the situation. He squeezed her hand, “Rest well Nathalie.”

**************

By the time Gabriel woke her the sun was beginning to set. She glanced around blearily, glasses lost somewhere between the couch cushions. 

“You were asleep for about eight hours,” he told her helpfully as she scrambled to fix her hair and find her glasses.

“I was slightly more than a little sleep-deprived,” She admitted, looking for her heels. She would need to hurry if she wanted to make it to the Dupain-Cheng bakery before they closed. She had promised Adrien chocolate macaroons. Which was the least she could do before probably traumatizing the kid for the rest of his life. 

“Shall I come with you, or would you prefer to speak to them alone.”

Nathalie thought for a moment. “They’ll probably want to talk to you either way. But I’d like to meet with them on my own first if that’s all right with you.”

“By all means.”

“Are you still angry?”

“You can just sense my emotions,” he reminded her.

“I realize, but I try not to. I’d rather you tell me.”

“I’m angry that we’re in this situation, but I am not angry at you. It is very difficult for me to stay upset with you for long.”

She smiled, “Is that so?”

“Not when you say such sweet things to me when you’re sleeping.”

Her cheeks warmed, “What? I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh Hawkmoth,” he teased in an exaggerated feminine voice, “you’re so brave and strong-”

Nathalie snorted and held up her shoe, “If these weren’t so expensive I would throw this at you.”

“I’m sure you would,” he grinned. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she admitted, the slightest flutter of anxiety brimming in her chest. She was really about to surrender her supervillain identity to her former nemesis’. She briefly pondered when her life had gotten so complicated.

“Whatever happens,” he said walking her to the door, “We’ll deal with the aftermath together.” He phrased it like a question.

“Of course, together.” With that, she smiled and started toward the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

The walk was relatively quiet and uneventful. A brisk breeze chilled the air slightly. She was so used to combing the city from above, Nathalie had almost forgotten what it was like to travel it from the streets. It wasn’t as lonely as the rooftops.

When she entered the small bakery the smell of yeast and vanilla immediately enveloped her. A pretty Asian woman greeted her brightly from behind the counter, “Be with you in a moment!”

“Take your time.”

Nathalie busied herself browsing the selection. They had all sorts of treats on display, an assortment of more pastries and tarts than Nathalie knew existed. Finally, she decided on a small box of chocolate and coffee macaroons and a Chat Noir paw-print sugar cookie. She was only human after all. 

“Ah, good choice,” Praised the woman as she rang Nathalie up, “My daughter asked us to make the Chat Noir cookies, he’s her favorite hero.”

“Smart girl,” Nathalie said reaching for her sweets, “You’ve raised her well, uh-”

“Sabine. And you?”

“Nathalie.”

Sabine smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, Nathalie. Will you be needing anything else today?”

“No, thank you.” 

Once Nathalie was safely outside and away from view she called on Duusu. “Oh, Miss Nathalie,” the little blue kwami cried upon materializing, “This could be the last time I ever see you!” Glittering blue tears spilled from her magenta eyes.

“Oh, Duusu,” Nathalie said, hugging the kwami to her shoulder, “I know, but it’s better this way. Now you can finally have a wielder who’s worthy of you.”

“But I’ll miss you!” she protested.

“I’ll miss you too,” Nathalie sighed, “But it’s for the best. Besides Duusu, look what I got you.” Nathalie presented a coffee macaroon.

“Oooh coffee!” The kwami was quickly distracted from her tears. Once she finished Nathalie kissed the kwami’s forehead and called on her transformation.

As Mayura, she kept in the shadows of the rooftops. The sun had not fully set, so she sat behind the bakery chimney, hidden from the view of the street and the balcony. She sampled a macaroon. It was unsurprisingly decadent. She hummed in approval. 

To her immeasurable displeasure, Ladybug arrived first. 

The girl eyed her bag of desserts. “You know we could just ask the bakery owners who bought those this evening and figure out your identity.”

“I’m going to tell you my identity anyway, so that would be a redundant move to make. Macaroon?”

“No thanks.”

They spent a long, silent moment seizing each other up. 

“For the record,” Ladybug told her, arms crossed over her chest, “Chat Noir may trust you, but if you do anything to hurt my partner, I’ll kill you. Hero or not.”

Mayura felt respect wash over her like a tide. Clearly, there was one thing they could agree on. “If I do anything to hurt Chat Noir,” she said eyes locking with the girl’s, “I’ll let you.”

“Hey, guys,” Chat waved happily, landing lightly on the roof. His eyes flit between the two women questioningly, gaze sharpening at the tension, “Is there a problem?”

“Nope.”

“No.”

“Oh,” he said clearly not believing them, “Okay great! I would love it if my two best ladies got along!”

“Your ladies?” Ladybug scoffed, raising an eyebrow.”

“You’re fooling yourself, Kitten,” Mayura said with a wrinkled nose.

“Aw well, a guy can dream. Ooh, May what treats did you get?” 

She smiled and revealed the box of cookies. “I have coffee, chocolate, and I got this for you.”

“Hey thanks!” he said happily, grabbing the pawprint cookie. The boy took a massive bite before staring at the treat contemplatively, “Do ya guys fink issa little narcissistic to eat a cookie based offa yourself?”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Mayura reprimanded out of habit. Eating lunch with five-year-old Adrien had ingrained that sentence into her brain. “Besides, if you’re worried about that in the first place you’re probably not a narcissist.”

“True enough,” Chat shrugged, polishing off the cookie.  
Ladybug was looking between the two with barely suppressed exasperation. “I can see how you guys became friends,” She told them blandly before holding out a hand, “But you did ask us to meet you here for a reason.”

“Of course,” Mayura said, placing the box with the butterfly miraculous in the girl’s outstretched hand.

Ladybug opened the box gingerly, and carefully inspected the brooch. Nooroo appeared in front of her. Ladybug took a sharp breath. “It’s real.”

Nooroo nodded, “Ladybug, Chat Noir, it is an honor to meet you both. Mayura, I am glad to see you again.”

“This is Nooroo,” Mayura introduced, “He’s a sweetheart. He likes tangerines and orange slices.”

“Hi Nooroo,” the heroes said in unison, their voices small. The realization that their feud with Hawkmoth was truly coming to an end seemed to finally set in. It was slightly endearing to see the recognition light up their eyes. 

Ladybug looked back at Mayura, shaking off her stunned expression. “Hawkmoth’s identity? And your miraculous?”

Mayura hesitantly reached for the jewel pinned to her breast. “I- I was hoping I could reveal my identity to Chat Noir first if you don’t mind. Alone.”

Ladybug pursed her lips in suspicion. The wind began to blow harder, musing the girl’s dark pigtails.

“Please m’lady?” Chat pleaded.

“Fine just-” the girl tied one end of her yoyo around Chat’s wrist and held the other tightly in her hand. She gave him a fiercely protective look, “If you need me, give this a yank and I’ll come to you immediately. Got it?”

He smiled, “Got it.”

Ladybug gave one last cautious glance before retreating out of earshot. Chat watched her silhouette grow smaller with a loving reverence that made Mayura’s heart ache. 

“Adrien,” she said after a moment.

The boy looked at her with a slightly startled expression. It was probably the first time anyone had referred to him by his name while transformed.

“Yes?”

“May I tell you, why I became a supervillain?”

“Please do,” He said, cat ears pricking forward eagerly, “I’ve been really curious.”

“There is a family that was once happy. It had a father and a mother and one child.”

“Is it your family?”

She smiled sadly, “It is not my family, but I love them more than words could ever describe. They are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a proper family.”

Chat looked at her expectantly.

“You remember how I told you my miraculous used to hurt me?”

His face hardened at the memory, “Yes.”

“It hurt someone before me. It took the life of the mother, leaving the father and the child without the woman they loved so deeply. They were heartbroken.”

Chat gave a sympathetic look. The story hit close to home for him. “He’s going to realize just how close,” Mayura thought sadly, wishing with every ounce of her soul she could spare him. Shield him from the heartbreak she had unknowingly helped inflict upon him. Her entire body ached with the desire to protect him from the inevitable. She could barely stand it.

“The father knew that if a miraculous could take the mother’s life, a miraculous could bring her back as well. So he followed a plan to draw out the wielders of the Ladybug and the Black Cat miraculouses. With those jewels, he knew he could bring his wife back, and make his family whole again.”

She shook her head bitterly. “I knew the plan was wrong, I knew I should have stopped him. But in the end that was all I wanted as well. For them to be whole again. For them to be happy.”

“What changed then?” he asked slowly, absorbing the information, “What changed to allow you to come to the good side?”

“Nothing,” she said, voice rife with intensity, “I simply realized that that the family couldn't be happy like that, not If I’m hurting you.”

He looked at her quizzically. “What do you m-” a lightning strike of realization split across his face. 

Nathalie watched his heart break.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Detransform,” he said defeatedly, in a voice that already knew exactly who he was going to see.

“I’m so sorry Adrien.”

“Please just detransform.” 

She did.

“No,” he whispered pleadingly, as if he could wish away the truth, “No no no Nathalie it can’t be you. It can’t be him! My mother wouldn’t leave me for a miraculous! Nathalie tell me it’s not true!”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, voice breaking and rolling over itself like the tide.

The boy detransformed and surged forward, burying his face in her shoulder. He sobbed the word no in a frantic stream into the fabric of her sweater, like a manic prayer.

No, don’t let it be you.

No, don’t let it be him.

No, don’t let this be my family.

No, don’t let us be this broken.

Nathalie just clung to him, cradling his blond head helplessly. She faintly noticed that her cheeks were wet. Tears studded her glasses lenses like raindrops suspended in the sky. The wind blew fiercer through the rooftops and ripped forcefully at the two. Nathalie rotated to shield Adrien from it. At least there one thing she could protect him from. She felt her hair blow loose.

She held him until Adrien’s tears ran dry, and he just stared at her with tired red eyes. She rubbed his back and pressed kisses into his hairline until he was ready to speak again. His kwami nuzzled protectively against his neck. 

“Ladybug is probably worried about me,” he whispered blankly, eyeing the yoyo still wound around his wrist. 

“You could transform and call her over-”

He yanked hard on the wire.

“Or you could just do that.”

Ladybug zipped over immediately, “What’s going on-”

She spotted Adrien.

“-Adrien?”

“Hi m’lady.”

“Wh- Chat Noir you-”

Her gaze fell on Nathalie. Her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh no.”

After a moment of glancing between the two, everything fell into place. “Oh no,” she repeated, weaker this time. She reached for Adrien, enveloping him in a hug of her own.

“What now?” She whispered to him.

The boy disentangled himself from the two women. He was a heartbreaking picture, all red eyes, and raw cheeks. 

“Now, we talk to my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was supposed to be short, but now I'm looking at my outline and realizing that uh, yeah, maybe there's more plot in this baby than expected. Oopsie.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is five in the morning, I have not proofread this, and I have had so many cups of coffee in the past twelve hours I think I might go into cardiac arrest. Anyway, Adrien talks to his father and I wanted Adrinette fluff so there's a little of that too.

“Now, we talk to my father,” Adrien said with a burning resolution he didn’t feel.

Two pairs of blue eyes stared at him, blinking owlishly. 

“Wait, now?” Ladybug squeaked.

“Adrien is right now really the best-” Nathalie started gently. She quickly quieted herself, looking down in shame. Guilt flit across her features. 

Adrien stared back at the two, his eyes burning from all the tears. If he was being honest, he knew it wasn’t the best time to confront his father about being Hawkmoth. Well, technically as soon as possible was the morally best time to confront him, but in terms of his own mental health situation, he knew he should probably wait. But waiting meant it wasn’t over. And it had really felt like the final stretch. Like things could really be, “over”. Hawkmoth and Mayura would surrender, he and Ladybug could retire, and Mayura and Ladybug would still be his friends as civilians. Perfect. But, no, because of course the villains formerly attacking Paris just had to be his parents. Well, parent and parental figure. Or just parents considering how Hawkmoth and Mayura acted around each other. 

Adrien blinked, trying to focus. He needed to say something. “Hey Nathalie, are you and my dad a thing?”

Probably not that but oh well.

Nathalie’s cheeks stained red, “Wh- Why is that what you’re worried about right now?”

“I’m worried about a lot of things right now, that was just the first that came out of my mouth,” he told her dazedly. It was true, all sorts of emotions were rolling unhappily in his stomach. Betrayal, anger, sadness, they had all twisted into a painful knot that he was not at all ready to deal with. Asking Nathalie embarrassing questions was the easiest course of action. 

“No Adrien, our relationship is strictly professional.” She told him in the practiced voice she used in interviews. 

“Uh-huh, and I don’t have Ladybug action figures hidden under my bed.”

Nathalie gave him a half-hearted glare. Guilt hindered her from giving him her full “Nathalie Sancoeur Murder GlareTM”. 

“You have what?” Ladybug screeched. 

Adrien bashfully slapped a hand on the back of his neck. “Did I say that? I meant-

“Adrien,” Nathalie said curtly, reminding him of the task at hand, “Do you truly want to confront your father right now.”

“Uh, well yes, but I- well I need to-”

“Would you feel comfortable walking as through your emotions first, and we can go from there?”

Ladybug looked at Nathalie with cautious appreciation.

Adrien nodded in relief, “I like that plan.”

Nathalie gave him a smile that usually meant she was going to sling an arm around his shoulders, or attempt (uselessly) to smooth down his hair. She seemed wary of touching him this time though.

They sat down on a flat stretch of the roof. Ladybug kept one hand splayed across the small of his back. He couldn’t tell whether it was to comfort him or because she was still distrustful of Nathalie’s presence, but he was grateful for the gesture anyway. 

They looked at him expectantly. “Well, I’m angry, obviously. I hate my father for what he put us through, what he put the whole city through. And I know it’s immature, but I kind of just want to talk to him to get it over with. I know I have to confront him eventually, and a part of me just wants to go and yell and scream and take all my frustrations out on him.”

“Adrien,” Nathalie said softly, “That’s not immature, you have every right to be furious at him, and at me. We’ve done many things that simply cannot be forgiven, and your anger is completely reasonable.” 

Adrien huffed, “But that’s the thing, I’m not mad at you. I know you both did bad things, but I honestly don’t care about what you’ve done. Because I’m being selfish, and you took care of me and loved me so I’m not angry that you were a villain. I’m mad because father was a villain and also didn’t do any of those things!”

Nathalie looked down guiltily, unable to argue with that. She pursed her lips but stayed silent. They sat in silence for a beat, no one sure how to continue.

Ladybug fidgeted. “Adrien,” she said gently after a moment, “I don’t want to push you, but you’re my partner, and I can tell that you’re more than just angry. You can tell us about that too if you need to.” 

Adrien looked at her with wide eyes. She was right of course, but how she was able to put together the intangible jumble of emotions he was feeling better than he could, was startling.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “but I don’t know how to put the rest into words.”

He thought about it for a moment. There were all sorts of emotions he could hurl at his father, all of them bad. But one thing kept swimming under his skin, full of emotions he was not ready to face. “It’s about my mother,” he said neutrally.

Nathalie and Ladybug made tense eye contact, as if they had both been waiting for him to admit that. He ignored it.

He turned to Nathalie, “I need answers about my mom.”

“I don’t know much, but tell me what you want to know.”

“Why was she using the peacock miraculous?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does father have her body? Can I see her?”

Nathalie nodded.

“Did she know-” his breath hitched, dread seeping into his stomach, “-Did she know it was killing her?”

“Adrien-” she breathed.

“Did she know?”

“Yes.”

Adrien balled his fists. “I need to talk to my father. I appreciate you both trying to help me work through my emotions first but I don’t feel like delaying the inevitable anymore.”

“Alright,” Ladybug agreed, “you two go ahead and transform, and we’ll go to your father.”

Adrien nodded thankfully.

Nathalie looked at the girl, confusion written on her face. “You trust me to transform?”

Ladybug nodded. “I don’t like it, but I trust that you care for Adrien enough to let you use your miraculous. At least for tonight.”

Nathalie made a pleased hum before nodding. “Duusu?” she called softly. 

A small blue kwami with long blue tail feathers twirled through the air at a dizzying speed. “Oh Miss Nathalie do we get to transform again? Does this mean I can stay with you? I’m so relieved!”

Nathalie looked at the kwami with an exasperated sort of fondness. “Adrien, Ladybug, this is my kwami, Duusu.”

“Oh, hi!” Duusu exclaimed, finally noticing the two. “I’m so happy to meet you Ladybug and Chat Noir! Oh, Adrien, you scared Miss Nathalie so bad in the last attack she hid in the bathroom and cried-”

“Duusu!” Nathalie interrupted, with a fierce glare. 

“Yes, Miss Nathalie?”

“We need to transform now, no time for chit-chat.”

Duusu whooped happily and Nathalie murmured her transformation words. Plum colored smoke and veined bolts of light replaced Nathalie with Mayura. Adrien blinked at her, startled. Now that he knew they were the same person the resemblance struck him abruptly. 

Adrien shook his head and called on his transformation. The three made their way across the rooftops, towards the Agreste mansion. 

“Almost feels like old times,” He told Mayura lightly, desperately suppressing the tremors in his voice.

“Almost,” she said with a watery smile. “Adrien, I know it’s not my place to say anything, and you have every right to be angry, but I want you to know that your father does love you.”

Chat kept his eyes forward, unable to meet hers. “I just wish he would prove that himself, instead of relying on you to take action.”

“That’s another thing,” Mayura told him breathlessly, “I’m sorry for allowing him to neglect you in the first place. I watched him break your heart over and over again and said nothing. I was complacent and therefore just as guilty. You deserve better, and I am sorry for that.”

“Nathalie,” he responded earnestly, “You stood up to your boss, one of the most influential men in Paris, who is also a feared supervillain. Not to mention just a general asshole. You’re not as complacent as you blame yourself to be.”

Nathalie snorted at his bluntness. “Did my pure sunshine child just curse? How scandalous!”  
“You’ve cursed all the time in front of me!” Adrien protested.

“Clearly I’ve been a horribly corrupting influence.” Her voice softened, “But thank you, Adrien, I appreciate you saying that.”

Adrien smiled at her, “I love you, Nat.”

“I love you too Kitten.”

They reached the mansion. The house was entirely dark except for the atelier light, where the silhouette of a tall figure stood in the window. Chat took a deep shuddering breath and pressed a hand to his chest. Anger and sadness swelled uncomfortably in his brain at the sight of his father. Mayura gently took his hand. 

The gates swung open and the three stepped onto the grounds. Anxiety and righteous fury simmered under his skin. The front door opened and his father greeted them silently. 

He was paler than usual, and his shoulders were wrought with tension. It was well past midnight and the man was still in his rumpled shirt and looked generally exhausted. Adrien wanted to scoff, “You think you have problems now, just wait.”

“Hawkmoth,” Ladybug greeted stiffly, her attempt at civility noticeable brittle.

His father’s eyes glanced briefly in the direction of Adrien’s room as if worried he would pop out and see the congregation of miraculous wielders. “Don’t worry,” Chat thought, “I already know your identity, you have nothing to lose.”

Chat entered the house silently, glaring at his father, keeping his hand locked with Nathalie’s, even as she detransformed. She shared a look with his father that he couldn’t decipher. 

He led them into the atelier and shut the door quietly. “I suppose I should welcome you to my home, Ladybug, Chat Noir,” he said awkwardly, nodding to each of them in kind. 

They stood in an extensive stretch of silence.

Despite Chat’s anger, he found he was unsure of what to do. Sure he was angry, but that anger didn’t manifest in any sort of impulsiveness or game plan, it just made everything suck. Finally, he folded his hands the way Nathalie did and mimicked her posture. “Mr.Agreste I’m going to need you to describe how you got ahold of the miraculouses and why exactly you and your wife chose to use them.”

Both Nathalie and Ladybug blinked at him in surprise. His father seemed to expect it and complied with the request.

“My wife already had sufficient awareness of the existence of miraculous before I met her. I thought it just a passing interest and did not pay it much mind. However, the year before my son was born, she had discovered in her studies that there may have been the existence of miraculous related artifacts in Tibet. I am unfortunately unaware of how she came across this knowledge. We traveled nearby to the site of the temple that reappeared this year. We found nothing until Nathalie helped us decipher a code carved within some nearby ruins, that described where the temple had been located. After a while of searching, we discovered the peacock and butterfly miraculous.”

His father pinched the bridge of his nose. “I believed that to be the end of it, but when we returned Emilie grew fond of transforming with the peacock miraculous. What exactly she did, she did not confide in me. It stopped for a few years after my son was born, but she never truly quit. Sometime in the year before her-” his father choked on his words, “-death, the miraculous broke. Once again I do not know why. She was aware of the risks of using a damaged miraculous, but she had some goal that was too important to give up on. When it became clear that she would not make it, she commissioned a chamber that would preserve her body, and created a plan ensuring that she would not be separated from us for long. I took up the butterfly miraculous and terrorized the city, to draw out the ladybug and black cat miraculouses, so I could bring her back with the wish.”

Chat snarled, “You don’t even know what her goal was? You didn’t even care enough to find out?”

His father grimaced, clearly struggling to suppress his rage, “Believe me I tried. She claimed she would only put Adrien and myself in danger by telling me.” 

“Well, clearly she fucking did anyway, giving you a plan that makes the damn city you live in a warzone!” Chat shouted

“Don’t you dare speak of my wife like that!” he growled. 

Nathalie stepped in front of Chat decisively, giving his father a fierce look. She shook her head almost imperceptively. The man stood down.

“Aren’t you angry?” Chat asked, “Don’t you wish she had chosen you over whatever her goal was? Aren’t you angry that it was worth leaving you and your son alone?”

“I-” his father looked at him with a startled expression, which slowly melted into defeat, “Yes. But she made her choice, what more could I do?”

His anger flared. “You could have learned from her mistakes!”

“What-”

“You could have decided that you were tired of someone prioritizing magic over your goddamn family and decided to be there for your son instead of going on some demented quest to tear apart the place you live!”

“I only wanted her back, it was never my intention for this to last so long, or to cause so much damage!”

“No, you didn’t want her back, you were too scared to accept the fact that she’s dead because you’re a fucking control freak who can’t accept that sometimes you are helpless and there is nothing you can do! Which is a lesson you would have learned if you had just collected your morality and had the dignity to mourn her! If you had condemned yourself to mourn her the way I had to! Instead of leaving me to grieve while you played some twisted hero delusion!”

His father’s eyes widened.

Adrien clung to Nathalie’s arm, his anger had exhausted itself, leaving him with a leaden sadness aching in his bones. She pulled him into a protective embrace.

“Adrien-” he heard his father whisper. 

“Don’t.” Ladybug’s voice warned, low and deadly. 

After a time Nathalie’s embrace thawed the sadness that had overtaken him. He pulled away from her and turned back to his father. He made steely eye contact with him, deliberately holding his gaze as he detransformed. 

“Adrien I-” his father started softly.

“Take me to my mother,” Adrien interrupted. 

The man nodded stoically and pivoted towards the golden portrait of his mother. His fingers found invisible mechanisms in the painting and a platform descended slightly into the floor. His father stepped on and looked back at them.

Ladybug squeezed Adrien’s hand. “Do you want us to come with you?” she whispered.

He squeezed back, “I think this is something I should do alone.”

He hugged Nathalie and Ladybug in quick succession and followed his father. 

They descended in tense silence, into a giant room, lit by faintly glowing lamps. They walked together down a long metal platform. Adrien looked over the railing to see water flowing gently beneath it. They reached a garden settled beneath a moonlit butterfly window. Pale white flowers bloomed around a dark shape.

His father pressed a button and the dark covering peeled away to reveal his mother hidden beneath glass and lit by golden light. She was lovely, her face gentle and peaceful, cornsilk hair spilling gracefully over one shoulder. He could smell her powdery floral perfume.

A sound tore from Adrien’s throat of its own accord. Something broke open in his chest and his body was wracked with deep choking sobs. 

His father drew towards him on instinct, tears streaming down the older man’s face. He stopped in front of Adrien, staring at the boy helplessly. Adrien allowed himself to stumble forward, and be enveloped in his father’s arms. For all his anger, some small part of him was soothed by his father’s affection, and by the knowledge that he was not the only person who was mourning her. 

When father and son had run dry of tears they stood at his mother’s glass chamber, allowing each other to savor the feeling of all three of them being in the same room, as they hadn’t been in over a year. 

Finally, his father spoke, voice thin and weary, “Adrien, you have every right to be angry and distrust me, but I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you. I swear I did not know who you were, and If I had I never would have allowed this to continue.”

“I believe you,” Adrien provided flatly, unable to muster up the sympathy for anything more. Perhaps with time and sleep, he could have managed a kinder response, but in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Adrien looked back at his mother, lying motionless in her glittering casement. “I’m not leaving her like this. It’s not fair to keep her in this state if she’s never coming back.”

His father nodded. “She installed a mechanism to turn off the chamber and lower it into the soil, should it have failed to preserve her in the first place.”

Adrien shuddered. “She made her own grave.”

His father took a ragged breath, “Yes I suppose she did.”

“You said she only made the mechanism in case the chamber didn’t function properly. Did she never anticipate that you would choose not to be a villain?” Adrien asked.

“She had a reasonable faith in my devotion to her. I would’ve done anything she asked.”

“What changed?”

“Nathalie,” his father stated bluntly.

“So you admit that you love her.”

“Adrien,” his father sighed, “When she told me to give this up it was, yes, in part due to my emotional connections with her. She is my friend, so not only do I want to make her happy, but I also trust that if she makes a decision it is quite likely in my best interest.”  
“And the other part?” Adrien questioned.

“The other part is that in general, when a woman who plays an influential role in your life is serious about something it is best not to piss her off. When that woman has enough blackmail material on you to send you into the depths of hell on a whim, it is especially prudent not to piss her off. When that woman is Nathalie Sancoeur, who can be generally terrifying, not to mention is a more capable fighter than trained bodyguards for reasons she will not disclose, if you value your life, you will not cross her.”

Adrien gave a weak smile, “That’s actually pretty good advice.”

They turned back to where his mother lay, reminded of what they needed to do.

His father gave him a cautious look. “Do you feel ready to say your goodbye?”

Adrien nodded, and his father stepped out of earshot. He looked at his mother. No new emotions sprang to the surface. He had already accepted she was gone long ago. Seeing her again had resurfaced old pain, but after everything that happened, he didn’t feel anything stronger than a bittersweet finality. He told her about Ladybug and Nathalie, and all the other people who had supported him in her absence. He told her not to worry, and he told her he forgave her for leaving them, even though he wasn’t sure he meant it. He told her he loved her, and meant every word.

He switched places with his father, who’s goodbye statement was about the same length.

They returned to her side together, where his father showed him the mechanism that would truly let her go. 

“You can do it if you like,” his father said awkwardly.

“I want you to do it,” Adrien stated tiredly, “I’ve had a year to let her go, you still haven’t accepted it. This is your chance to.”

The older man nodded and activated the mechanism. The light inside his mother’s casket faded to black, and a metal cover shielded the glass. Something whirred, and the chamber’s platform lowered beneath the earth surrounding it. Fresh dirt spewed from dispensers in the ground, neatly filling the grave. In less than a minute it was over, and instead of standing in front of his mother Adrien stood in front of a grave. Relief was the only feeling her recognized. Everything else was foreign and horrible, and not a problem to be dealt with on that night.

He and his father made their way back to the atelier in silence, both physically and emotionally exhausted. When they entered the atelier it was empty, but soft chatter rang from somewhere in the house. The two traced it to the dining room where Nathalie and Ladybug were sitting with mugs that had long gone cold. The talk ended abruptly when the two entered the room.

“Emilie has been laid to rest,” his father explained tiredly. 

Nathalie surged forward and hugged the both of them gently, as if she were afraid they might shatter if she held them too tightly. Maybe they would.

Ladybug held Adrien’s hand when Nathalie released him, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“I wanna go to bed,” he told her, “Not here.”

“You can stay with me,” she whispered. “My family won’t care. They’ll be ecstatic to have you actually.”

Adrien blinked for a few seconds. “You want to reveal your identity?”

“Hawkmoth and Mayura have surrendered, and I already know your identity. I trust you, and besides, Nathalie figured it out within ten minutes of talking to me.”

“She knows you?” he asked. “I know you?” He realized belatedly. 

She nodded and smiled sweetly. 

“Can I?” he asked Nathalie.

She nodded, “Of course.” She handed him a bag, “I packed your clothes and your phone, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” 

His father didn’t dare disagree. 

Adrien transformed, grabbed his bag, and he and Ladybug slipped out the window. He didn’t look back at the mansion. He just let Ladybug lead him in a familiar path.

They stopped on the balcony of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. “Marinette,” he said slowly, too tired to be surprised at the realization. 

“Come on in Kitty,” she invited as she descended into her bedroom. He followed numbly. The two detransformed and collapsed onto her bed in exhaustion. Marinette curled her arms around him protectively. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“I’m so glad it’s you,” Adrien sighed, before drifting off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to reread this after sleeping and hate it but I don't care because all the angsty confrontation is done so now I can write more plot and by plot, I mean found family bonding and ships. If you noticed that I described the characters as tired a lot in this chapter it is because I'm projecting and now I'm going to sleep for at least ten hours.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie talks with her future in-laws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story y'all, originally Gabriel was supposed to betray Nathalie after she sides with Chat Noir and be generally terrible to her, and the Gabenath at the beginning was just to make the angst hurt more. But then I realized I couldn't do that to y'all so I reworked the entire plot to allow Gabe to be redeemed. Yay nice endings!

The moment Adrien and Ladybug were out of view from the window, Nathalie practically fell into one of the dining room chairs. It was incredible how one day could drain at least a decade from your lifetime. Gabriel quickly followed suit, exhaustedly messaging his temples. Nathalie contemplated the logistics of burrowing into the floor and hibernating until she forgot how to experience emotions.

“Adrien is Chat Noir,” Gabriel said, voice hoarse. 

Nathalie nodded miserably. 

“This entire time, I have been fighting my son.”

Nathalie thought of how she had been in that exact spot only a few days ago. Drowning in shock and guilt and self-loathing. She was still sort of like that, but at least she’d slept since then. Gabriel was only awake out of spite and self-hatred. 

“That’s why you took such drastic measures,” he continued, more to himself than anything, “You wouldn’t let me hurt Adrien.”

“I’d never let anything happen to that boy,” she agreed absently.

“Thank you,” Gabriel whispered, looking at her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. “Of all the debts I owe to you, raising Adrien, and loving him, is the greatest.”

Nathalie reached an open hand across the table. He took it.

She gave a pitiful laugh. “Loving Adrien isn’t any debt. I couldn’t help that if I tried,” she squeezed his hand, “and believe me, I’ve tried.” 

“Adrien is an extraordinary young man,” Gabriel agreed. “I hadn’t realized how much he’s grown.”

“Because you were never there,” Nathalie said plainly.

He nodded before sighing and holding his head in his hands. “I doubt he will ever stop hating me. After everything, I suppose I couldn’t fault him for that.”

“You know, I told myself the same thing a little while ago,” Nathalie murmured contemplatively, “But even in just a few days, the pain has eased. We both have a long road to redemption, but we are blessed in that Adrien is a very forgiving boy. He will see the efforts you make, and he will credit you for them. You just have to try, for Adrien’s sake, and it will get better with time.”

He looked at her, “You’re right, of course.”

“You’ve already shown Adrien that he is your priority,” Nathalie continued, “by agreeing to surrender the miraculous.”

“He credits you for that,” Gabriel told her, “Although, when we were down there with Emilie, he wanted me to be the one to deactivate her chamber.” He breathed, his free hand shaking. “He told me he had already let her go, and I had to as well. Perhaps he would appreciate if I made more of an effort to accept she’s- dead. Making a public statement, managing her clothes, and the like.”

“I think that’s a good place to start,” Nathalie encouraged gently, suppressing a yawn. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, giving her a bittersweet smile.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed, returning the smile. 

She yawned and stood up. Gabriel looped an arm around her waist to pick her up. He had done it on occasion when she fell asleep at her desk, or when she was feeling weak as Mayura.

“No way,” she protested, waving him off, “I’ve slept more recently than you have! I’m the one who should be carrying you.”

He chuckled, “I’m a foot taller than you.

Nathalie shrugged, “So what?”

Gabriel shook his head, smiling slightly, “I’m too scared to see whether or not you’re joking. Goodnight, Nathalie.”

“I could totally lift you up,” Nathalie mumbled stubbornly. “Goodnight,” she added louder before making her way back to her designated guest bedroom.

*****************

Nathalie woke to the sound of her phone ringing. She fumbled for it on the bedside table and saw it was Adrien calling.

“Hey, Kitten,” She said groggily into the phone.

“Hi, Natty,” Adrien replied, sounding equally tired. Nathalie smiled at the use of his childhood nickname for her. “Can you pick me up from Marinette’s house?”

“Of course,” she said quickly, “Are you sure you’re ready to come back?”

“Yeah,” Adrien replied decisively. “I want to get answers about why my mother was using a damaged miraculous. I thought sorting through her things might provide some answers.”

Adrien had already had a year to grieve his mother and was very good at faking a model cheeriness, but Nathalie could hear a repressed melancholy quality to his voice she had never heard before. The fact that Emilie had been aware that her actions would separate her from her family had clearly ripped open a healing wound for Adrien.

“Your father was thinking the same thing,” Nathalie mentioned, “Of course, if you would rather sort through them alone that is completely fine.” 

“No, he can help,” Adrien agreed mildly, notes of bitterness hidden in his tone. “And you and Marinette too, if you don’t mind. I just want answers, and the more eyes looking the better.”

Nathalie heard a muffled conformation from Adrien’s side.

“I’ll help,” Nathalie agreed.

“Great, see you in a bit,” Adrien said. She expected him to hang up, but after a moment, he added, “I love you.”

“I love you too, kid.”

She ended the call and went to brush her teeth. Nathalie didn’t bother to put on makeup or tie up her hair. She dressed in an old t-shirt and jeans and threw on a solid colored cardigan after feeling a little too casual in her boss’s house.

She ran into Gregor as she made her way out of the house. The giant man looked slightly panicked.

“Adrien?” he asked her in a deep rusty voice. The concern in that one word broke her heart. It seemed she wasn’t the only Gabriel brand employee that had grown attached to the blonde boy.

“Oh, he’s at a sleepover at a friend’s house, I’m going to get him right now,” she said with a reassuring smile. 

The man exhaled in relief. He peered at her casual clothes and raised an eyebrow. 

“I got called into work really early this morning for an emergency, and I couldn’t be bothered to wear anything more professional.”

Gregor let out a low rumbly chuckle and ruffled her hair.  
Nathalie gave him a weak smile and dashed out the door.

The Dupain-Chengs were waiting for her expectantly in the bakery. The night prior, Marinette had revealed that her parents had no clue about her involvement with the miraculous, and she had no intention of divulging Nathalie’s. Still, Nathalie felt her heart beat a little faster. “They’re probably just wondering how my fifteen-year-old boy ended up in their daughter’s room last night.” she reasoned. The thought did not calm her nerves at all. 

As soon as Nathalie crossed the threshold, Sabine caught her in a fierce hug. Nathalie stood awkwardly in the woman’s embrace, unsure of what to do.

“Adrien told us about the fight with his father,” Sabine said, releasing her, but keeping her hands clasped comfortingly around one of Nathalie’s. “That’s about all he told us, but he mentioned that you were the one who let him come here. We’re very grateful.”

Nathalie looked at the woman in confusion, “I wanted to apologize for letting him stay here without asking.”

“Oh don’t you worry about that dear, all of Marinette’s friends are welcome when they need it. Adrien’s a joy to have, I’m sure you’re very proud.”

“Would you like to sit down with us, Ms. Sancoeur, just while Adrien collects his things?” Mr. Dupain asked invitingly, pulling out a seat for her. 

She took the offer politely. “Thank you, and Nathalie is fine.”

“No worries, Nathalie!” He told her brightly, “And please, call me Tom.”

“Thank you, Tom,” she said, nodding at the man. 

Sabine took a seat between her husband and Nathalie. 

“Now Nathalie, we don’t mean to pry, of course,” Tom started gently, “But we’re parents too, and we can’t help but worry. Is everything okay at home for Adrien right now?” Is there anything we can do to help?”

Nathalie sighed, struggling to remain stoic in the face of two warm concerned gazes. “How much did Adrien tell you?”

Sabine gave her a comforting smile, “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, he just said he had an argument with his father, and didn’t want to stay at his house.”

Nathalie relented, half-truths spilling easily from her lips. “Adrien felt his father was more focused on finding his mother than being an attentive parent. He wanted Gabriel to accept that Emilie is gone, and to be a better father. He was right, of course, but they argued for a large portion of the evening before Adrien stormed out.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking of all the times she should have put her foot down about Gabriel’s behavior, and remembering each time Chat Noir was hurt by a villain. “I could’ve prevented it, but I didn’t. This outburst has been a long time coming.” 

“Oh, the poor dear,” Sabine said to herself softly before touching Nathalie’s arm gently, “Don’t blame yourself for all this Nathalie. These are the years children are bound to butt heads with their parents. I’m sure this has been difficult for you as well.”

Nathalie gave a noncommittal nod.

“How has Mr. Agreste handled this?” Tom asked in a too-casual voice that smothered the challenging voice of a protective father who can and will break the other man like a toothpick.

She felt herself smile. “You mean, are we going to have to fight over which one of us forcibly adopts Adrien? Not today, Gabriel was wracked with guilt and worry all night. Things will definitely be changing for the better in the Agreste household from now on.”

“Good,” Tom muttered dangerously, a protective look shared between his and his wife’s eyes. 

Nathalie watched them with a barely repressed smile. “I hope I will be as scary as these two someday,” she thought.

“Natty,” she heard Adrien’s voice murmur from somewhere. 

Immediately she was out of her seat. “Adrien?” she said, glancing around. She saw him by the stairwell that led to the Dupain-Cheng apartment, hand in hand with a very sleepy looking Marinette. His eyes were rimmed with red. She strode over to him and pulled him into a hug out of instinct. The boy reciprocated defeatedly, his head burrowing into her shoulder the way he did when she would carry him as a child. 

Marinette made her way to her parents, giving them sleepy good morning kisses. Something in Nathalie’s heart twinged. 

“You sure you’re ready to look through your mother’s things, to go back even?” Nathalie whispered gently in Adrien’s ear, combing through his wild bed head with her fingers.

Adrien nodded stubbornly. “I want to know what drove my mom to use a damaged miraculous. Both for me and for the city. For all we know, she could have been combating a miraculous related issue that might resurface at any moment.” Quieter, he said, “Or she could’ve been creating one.”

Nathalie tightened her hold on the boy -wishing desperately for the millionth time she could protect him from all the pain he would ever have to face- before releasing him. She took his (now lumpy because he never folded his clothes properly) overnight bag and led him to the front of the bakery to get going. 

“I can’t thank you enough for having Adrien over,” Nathalie said graciously to Tom and Sabine. They gave all sorts of praise toward Adrien and invited him back whenever he wished. Adrien blushed sheepishly. 

“Marinette wants to go with Adrien if you don’t mind Nathalie,” Sabine told her sweetly.

“Of course,” Nathalie replied, surprised she was being genuine, “Marinette is always welcome.”

Tom and Sabine gave her approving smiles. 

Adrien and Marinette linked hands and stumbled out the door. Nathalie smiled at the sight of the two. 

“You excited to be in-laws?” Tom joked lightly.

Nathalie flushed. “I’m just an assistant, not family.”

“You are a mother if I ever saw one,” Sabine told her kindly.

She hesitated for a moment. “So excited,” Nathalie confirmed, at last, an insecure warmth flickering in her chest. She waved goodbye and followed the teens to the car.

“Do you want to transform?” Nathalie asked Marinette on the drive back to the mansion.

“Nah, I want Gabriel Agreste to know that I can and will kick his ass, with or without magic.”

Nathalie snorted.

Adrien had never looked more in love. Nathalie, of course, had noticed his affections for Marinette and his celebrity crush on Ladybug. The fact that they were the same girl made the lovesick teenagery-ness overwhelming. She was happy for him, that boy needed something good in his life, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng seemed the perfect candidate. 

When they arrived, Gabriel greeted them at the door. He honestly seemed more shaken by the hand-holding than Marinette’s identity. He chose not to comment on either, however, much to Nathalie’s relief.

He brought the small group to the large master bedroom, where all of Emilie’s clothes and possessions had been arranged lovingly across the dramatic four-poster bed and, if appropriate, on the floor. 

After Marinette gave a brief explanation of anything that might be important that should be shown to her or Adrien immediately, the four set to work looking through all sorts of jewelry, clothes, and books. Nathalie searched through a jewelry box with contents that probably costed more than everything she had ever owned combined. They worked in a strained silence, heroes and former villains awkwardly quarantining themselves on opposite sides of the room.

“Mom?” Adrien said, deliberately referring to Nathalie. She felt herself flush as she walked over to him, ignoring the feeling of Gabriel’s eyes on her. Adrien showed her a large, plain jewelry box he had emptied out. 

“Look how big it is on the outside,” Adrien told her thoughtfully. “But, the inside is only this deep.”

“A hidden compartment,” Nathalie whispered.

Adrien nodded, “But I think the false bottom has gotten stuck from disuse, I’m not strong enough to get it out.”

He handed the box to Nathalie. She peeled back the velvet lining to reveal a small wood panel, held in place with a lock. 

“Oh, we need a key!” Adrien said excitedly, looking around frantically. 

“No, we don’t,” Nathalie replied casually, pulling two bobby pins from her pockets (always good to be prepared). She fashioned one into a slight hook shape and pressed it to the bottom of the lock. She took the other one and pressed it to the top of the lock, jiggling it gently until one by one, each of the mechanisms clicked into place. The lock popped open.

Adrien gaped at her. 

“Why do you know how to pick locks?” Gabriel questioned, sounding both confused and impressed.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, not wanting to tell him she googled it one day when she was really bored.

Marinette grinned, “Never thought I’d be grateful for villainous skills.”

“That’s hardly a villainous skill,” Nathalie retorted. 

Adrien ignored them and removed the false bottom, revealing a small floral patterned notebook with yellowing pages. He picked it up reverently and flipped through the first few pages. His bright green eyes widened.

“This is it,” he breathed, “It’s a journal, a log of everything my mother knew about the miraculous!” Tears glazed the boy’s eyes. “I have my answers.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes of Paris get Starbucks, and Adrien reads his mother's journal.

Adrien and Marinette had chosen to take lunch in a small nearby cafe Nathalie had recommended. They sat on faded wicker chairs at a small table outside, where they could have some privacy. No one else sat outside, and people rarely walked past.

Adrien frequently placed a hand over his jacket, where he could feel his mother’s journal tucked inside. A part of him burned with the desire to ignore everything and tear the book open, sucking every sentence down greedily, as one breathes air after being underwater too long. 

But another part of him, young and scared, recoiled at the thought of reading it at all. Because once it was gone that was it. Once the last sentence was read there were no more words his mother would give him. If he never read it some small part of her could remain alive and unknown to him. There could be words left in anticipation, the way the living have words yet unsaid.

Adrien dunked his cheesy bread in his soup sadly. He knew the idea was just wishful thinking, and he was the one who wanted answers anyway. He just hoped he would like the answers he got. 

“Adrien?” Marinette asked gently, poking at her chile awkwardly with a spoon. 

“Yes?” he answered, brain attempting to remain in the present. 

“I was thinking, we should probably draft a formal statement about the surrender of Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

Adrien pursed his lips, “Do you think the public will be angry that we don’t release their identities, or make them face the justice system?”

“Nah,” Marinette said with easy confidence, “We’ll just hit ‘em with some ‘magic crimes require magic justice’ mambo jumbo, and help your family however you feel fit.”

Adrien could still feel a twinge of worry working restlessly in his chest.

Marinette took his hand. “I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to Nathalie.”

He gave her a relieved smile.

“But before that,” Marinette said with a grin, “I think we and the other superheroes deserve to celebrate!”

“Oh yeah,” Adrien brightened, “I guess we can all reveal our identities now!”

Marinette clapped with a feverish excitement, “Exactly! Okay so hear me out, we all transform and get coffees together. We can just hang out on the roofs and chill without worrying about an akuma!” 

Her enthusiasm was infectious. Adrien felt his worries slip away from his messed up family ever so slightly. He grinned at her.

“I’ve definitely been wanting to hang out with everyone casually,” he told her, “Not on superhero business.” 

“Me too,” she agreed, “It was never really an option before since Hawkmoth-” she trailed off, guilt flashing across her face,” “Bu-But now we can so we should totally do something fun!”

“Marinette,” he said her name with deliberate care. The girl looked at him, blue eyes sharpening at his tone. “You don’t have to censor yourself around me or walk on eggshells when we’re having a conversation. Saying that my father was Hawkmoth, or that he hurt you too isn’t going to make me guilty or freak out or anything.”

Marinette pursed her lips, “I don’t want to be insensitive, you’re going through a lot, I’d rather not throw in your face if I can avoid it.”

“I appreciate that,” Adrien reassured her, “But it’s sort of always in my face anyway. You’re not making that any worse by talking about it. In fact, I’d prefer it if we did talk about it. Hawkmoth has hurt you too, and that’s something you’re allowed to feel, and allowed to talk with me about.”

“Adrien, your father has caused you far greater pain than he’s caused me. I’d feel ungrateful talking to you about my problems when you’re so deep in your own,” she said, voice small. 

“That’s not ungrateful, you’re allowed to feel whatever it is you feel. You’re completely entitled to your own emotions that resulted from my father’s actions. And you’re also not responsible for what he has done, no matter what anyone tells you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it you don’t have to, but I do recommend talking to someone about it. I have been emotionally dependent on you, you should also be able to have that with someone else. Maybe you can talk to one of the other heroes when we meet up today.”

Marinette gave him a shaky smile. “I might just do that, thank you, Adrien. I promise it’s not because I don’t trust you or anything. How much would you feel comfortable with my sharing about your situation to another one of the heroes?” 

“I know you trust me, and you should be able to talk to whoever you think can help you sort through your initial emotions the best.” Adrien thought for a moment. “Honestly I don’t really care how much you tell the others, I was planning on revealing everything to them anyway.”

The girl’s jaw dropped, “Really? Everything?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I hate secrets, I want to finally have everything out in the open, and I trust the others.”

She smiled. “Alright, we can both get some things off our chests today.”

**************

It was slightly surreal to be standing in a gaggle of transformed superheroes in front of a little cafe. People stared at them, a few daring children coming forward to ask for autographs. Chat was pleasantly surprised to find that children still liked him, despite the Mayura incident. Adults were a little less trusting, eyeing the teen suspiciously, but the other heroes wound a protective circle around him, dissuading any civilians from making their judgment known. 

Ladybug had been the one to gather them all, and everyone, by some miracle, had been available to get coffees. No akumatizations meant lighter schedules he supposed.

Ladybug and Queen Bee emerged from the bustling shop, balancing cardboard holders full of coffees and other miscellaneous caffeinated drinks. 

“I covered the costs and none of you losers better try to pay me back, cause I won’t have it,” Queenie stated flatly. Anyone who tried to argue got the stink eye. The two girls began distributing orders.

When the striped girl got to him she smiled, “One green tea frappuccino, for the guy who singlehandedly defeated both of Paris’ villains in one day.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t really do anything.”

“Bullshit,” Queen Bee told him, “You don’t give yourself enough credit, you never have. Whatever anyone says, you did the right thing giving Mayura a second chance. You gave me a second chance too, and now I’m wielding the bee miraculous. Your good heart changes people, and don’t you forget it you dumb cat.”

“Thanks, Chlo,” he said sheepishly, her civilian nickname spilling instinctively from his lips. She gave a half-smile and moved onto the next person.

Ladybug grinned as she passed out drinks. “Alright,” she said theatrically, whirling around and jabbing a finger to the sky, “To the roofs!” 

He and the other heroes followed suit, letting Ladybug lead them to a secluded stretch of roofs closer to the edge of the city. As soon as everyone was relatively settled in the bizarre fact that they were hanging out as superheroes, with caffeine, on the lawless roofs of Paris, shenanigans began to ensue. They were teenagers after all.

“If I may have your attention,” Ladybug called authoritatively into the chatter. Everyone quieted and looked at her. “Now I know there has been a lot of confusion and speculation the past few days, regarding Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

There was a general murmur of agreement.

“Well, I just wanted to officially confirm that the butterfly and peacock miraculouses are safely in my possession! The villains have surrendered, and we can now reveal our identities. I ask that you only reveal them to each other and not the public, but you’re free to do as you please.”

There was a beat of silence before a choir of questions rang out.

“Who are the villains’ identities?”

Ladybug looked at him, “That’s not my question to answer.”

Several teenaged eyes followed Ladybug’s gaze and landed on Chat. He flushed.

“If you’ve seen the news recently, you’ll know that Mayura is my friend. For her sake, I can’t share her or Hawkmoth’s identities right now.”

Everyone nodded in exaggerated support and understanding. Chat felt the urge to wrinkle his nose but didn’t, instead, smiling at back at his friends.

“What’s going to happen to the miraculouses, now that they’re all returned?”

Ladybug fidgeted. “We haven’t decided yet. My guess would be that we return them to the Guardians from the temple in Tibet.”

Chat nodded, “That’s what I figured the natural outcome would be, though I will miss being a hero.”

Ladybug dipped her head in agreement.

“Can we reveal our identities already, I’m dying to know.” someone said.

Chat smiled, “Hell yeah we can.”

Immediately he was surrounded by flashes of light and colored smoke. He already knew most of their identities, but it was still a bit of a surprise to be surrounded by his friends and classmates. 

“Nino! Alya!” He gaped at his two friends standing where Carapace and Rena Rogue had stood.

Alya looked sheepish, eyeing him apologetically.

“Come on dude, you’re gonna leave us hanging?” Nino asked him pointedly.

“Oh yeah,” Chat replied, shaking himself from his surprise. He quickly detransformed and grinned at the shocked faces of his peers. “Hiya.”

“Adrien!” Nino exclaimed before enveloping him in a tight hug. “Holy shit my best friend is my favorite superhero.”

Adrien relaxed his head into his friend’s shoulder, suppressing a bizarre flash of emotions pricking at his eyes. He blinked back the tears in confusion.

The boys parted and turned to Ladybug, who was smiling softly.

“Oh is it my turn now?”

Alya nodded eagerly.

A flash of rose-colored sparkles revealed a smug Marinette. The smirk on her face made Adrien’s cheeks heat up. Even though he already knew her identity, there was a brief holy shit moment that stuttered in his chest.

“Yo, Mari…” Nino murmured, gears turning in his head.

Alya’s jaw dropped. “Marinette?” she whisper screamed.”

“Hey, Al,” Marinette grinned, waving.

Alya squealed and clung to her friend. “This is the best day of my life,” Alya said told her seriously. 

“Yeah, now I get to remind you about all the heart attacks you gave me, joking that I look like Ladybug,” Marinette said mischievously, poking Alya’s cheek.

“Just keeping you on your toes, girl,” Alya retorted happily.

Marinette looked back at where Adrien and Nino were standing, “Do you want some space with your best bro?” She asked politely.

Adrien thought for a moment. He did want to talk to Nino about everything, but some part of him hesitated. Nino was sure to react similarly to Marinette, a loving smothering. Everything would be his comfort zone, his decision, whatever was the kindest outcome for him. Which was not to say he didn’t appreciate that kind of support, but part of him wanted an unyielding force. He wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t be afraid to share their opinions. Nathalie had always been a perfect blend of the two, but he wanted to talk to a friend, not a parent. He internally balked at the realization that the person he wanted to talk to the most was Alya. Even if her investigative methods could be invasive, she was smart, logical, and opinionated. She wouldn’t treat him like something fragile.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could steal Alya from you for a minute,” Adrien told her.

Alya paled.

“Sure,” Marinette agreed easily.

“See ya dude,” Nino waved, walking away with Marinette, chatting with the girl quietly.

As soon as their two friends were out of earshot a frantic apology came tumbling out of Alya’s mouth. “Adrien I am so sorry about live streaming the video with you and Mayura and Hawkmoth! It was rude and insensitive and, well it was a total dick move and I should have respected your privacy. I deleted the video a few hours later, I swear!”

“It’s okay,” Adrien said genuinely, “I had some time to think about it afterward, and even though I don’t like it, we are all public figures, and what happens between heroes and villains is a matter that affects the safety of civilians. You and the public had a right to know, and you’re a journalist, of course you’re going to get the story out there.”

“It’s not okay,” Alya argued stubbornly, “You’re my friend both as Chat and Adrien, even if I didn’t know that then, I still should have stopped filming when Mayura asked, for your sake. Because you’re my friend, and that comes before any story. I’m just sorry.”

Adrien smiled at her. “Thanks, and how did you figure out where Mayura and I would be that day?”

“There was repeated security camera footage of you and Mayura returning to the places where there had been an akuma attack during the day. There was no actual evidence of you two together, but the timings were very similar. I never once thought you were evil or anything, but it seemed like an unlikely coincidence. And since there were no reports of fights despite you having had to have seen her, I thought maybe Mayura was blackmailing you or something. So I waited all night at the place the akuma had been, it was easy since it was pretty close to my apartment. Sure enough, you both showed up.”

“Impressive,” Adrien commented.

“I really am sorry,” Alya repeated desperately.

“I know,” Adrien said shortly, “I want to talk to you about something Alya, but you have to promise it doesn’t go on the Ladyblog or anywhere else. No one can know.”

Alya’s eyes widened curiously. “Cross my heart,” she swore solemnly.

“Pinkie promise?” he asked, holding out a pinkie.

“Pinkie promise,” agreed eagerly, curling her pinkie around his.

He launched into a summary of everything that had happened in the past months. He described becoming friends with Mayura, meeting up with her, revealing his identities, finding out Hawkmoth and Mayura were his parents, laying his mother to rest, and finding the journal.

Alya blinked at him silently for a few moments, processing. “I’m going to kill your dad,” was her first comment.

Adrien laughed, a deep rattling laugh that shook his entire body. That was exactly the kind of thing Alya would say after a story like that. No coddling, straight to attempted murder.

“How are you feeling about all this?” She asked, both out of curiosity and concern.

“Oh, I have no idea,” Adrien said in a surprisingly chipper voice. “I mean, I’m fucking pissed at my father, but the rest I have no idea. The emotions are all new and weird.”

“Big oof,” Alya provided helpfully.

“But I didn’t really tell you all this so we could talk about my feelings, because I know you don’t understand emotions any more than I do.”

“Oh thank god,” Alya breathed in relief, “I mean obviously I feel bad and I would’ve done my best to help you out there but we both know Mari and Nino are the ones who understand how to deal with emotions healthily.”

Adrien nodded in agreement. “I asked you here so you could help me understand my mom’s journal. You’ve always been good at reading between the lines, figuring out thought processes and intentions. If I read this alone my emotions will probably blind me with a bias. I want to make sure we understand what really happened.”

She nodded seriously, brown hair bobbing. “I’d be happy to.”

They sat at the edge of the roof, the faint chatter of the others soft in the background. Adrien revealed the journal and handed it to Alya. She carefully examined the faded floral cover before handing it back. Adrien flipped it open and placed the notebook between them. The two friends quickly fell into a silent routine, keeping one finger on the paper until they were both ready to turn the page.

The journal began with the legends of various miraculous wielders. Most of the names he recognized as heroes from stories, but their mystical bravery and strength explained with the existence of miraculous. The only one he didn’t recognize was the story of an unnamed man who wielded two kwamis called Null and Void. The story was vague and disjointed, describing how this man realized that if he used both Null and Void in the presence of all other known miraculous he would possess some sort of great power. Null and Void then disappeared, as did the man. The writings theorized that this had occurred about 2000 years past, and since then no other heroes had risen.

Adrien read each story with a growing reverence, the loose looping handwriting of his mother turning into her voice, reading softly for his ears alone. There was something familiar about them too. As if she had told him them before, though he had no memory of her ever reading him bedtime stories like this.

“That was intense,” Alya commented once they had both finished the legend of the unnamed man. 

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed, slightly confounded by the tale’s frantic almost incoherent nature, despite the other’s seeming clear and practiced.

“Your mother never mentioned a source for these legends,” Alya said, “But I think the most likely source is her family. If she found the legends in a book or something, she probably would have mentioned it. But it doesn’t seem like she found them at all, it seems like she just knew them, as if she had been told them all her life.”

Adrien nodded thoughtfully, “I didn’t really think of it like that, but it makes sense. Besides, we have no other record of miraculous in books or on the internet. No one had even mentioned them until we surfaced. The most likely source of such intimate knowledge is probably oral history.

Alya shifted her position to lying on her stomach, Adrien stretched before joining her, and they kept reading.

The second part of the journal contained his mother’s own thoughts and findings, instead of stories. Adrien felt something warm and soothing settle in his chest at reading his mother’s own words and ideas. There was conjecture from the story of the unnamed man, theorizing that he had run away with the mysterious miraculous of Null and Void, separating them from the rest of the miraculous, so no one could take advantage of the great power. Which led her to believe that all other miraculous were being kept in a single place. 

She detailed her curiosity towards this hypothetical place and included note fragments of all sorts of places she found could be potential candidates. Abandoned temples in India, ruins in the pacific ocean, an island that lived in complete isolation from the rest of the world, its inhabitants armed with arrows and spears that never seemed to miss. She was the most drawn to a remote village in the mountains of Tibet. The village itself seemed pretty down on its luck, describing meager food and harsh snowy conditions, but the villagers described a hidden temple, with men in fine silk clothing, who would show themselves a few times a year. The men would gather certain children from the village and take them to the temple, in exchange for oil lamps and hearty food. The village was skeptical at first, but the men promised their children would be safe, provided with food and warmth. After a while, the village began to worship the men from the temple, the same men returning unchanged for generations, promising their children ease and comfort. Then, some 170 years prior, it had vanished and the men had disappeared.

“That must have been the temple that returned!” Adrien said excitedly. “That’s where the guardians of the miraculous were!”

Alya looked at him, the gears turning in her head. “So you’re telling me, well this journal is telling me, the Guardians of all known miraculous save Null and Void, took children from their families and just, never returned them? They apparently used the miraculous to create an abundance of comfort for themselves, but only extended their good fortune in exchange for children? And those are the guys who hold the greatest powers of our world?”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. Fu had never described the Guardians with anything but respect and reverence, but the story was unsettling. And the seeming “immortality” of the men from the temple aligned suspiciously with Fu’s extended life. “Hang on a sec,” he told Alya before turning towards the rest of the group. He saw Marinette chatting softly with Luka. 

“Hey, Mari,” he called, waving her over. Marinette looked towards him before excusing herself politely and trotting over to them.

“Whatcha need?” she said with a cautious brightness.

“Did Master Fu tell you anything about the Order of the Guardians?” he asked.

“Yeah actually,” Marinette answered immediately, “He said he went with them when he was younger because they promised him a better life. They trained him to be a Guardian by making him do chores around the temple and guarding the miracle boxes for 24 hours with no food.”

Adrien and Alya looked at each other in alarm. 

“Not to be dramatic,” Alya said, “but this is sounding more and more like a cult-y child trafficking story by the minute. 

“No, no, I’m with you.” Adrien agreed.

“What?” Marinette whisper screamed, plunking down next to them. “What the heck is in that journal?”

They scooted over to make room for her and the three continued reading.

The journal went from a deep curiosity to an almost frantic search for the miraculous. His mother seemed to share their newfound distrust for the guardians. 

“Why,” she kept asking. Why did they take the children? Why were they the only ones who could control such a powerful force? Why were the miraculouses kept from the public, from people they could be used to help? Why did the temple disappear?

There was a crude map of approximately where the temple and village may have been. His mother described traveling to Tibet with his father and Nathalie. There was a small polaroid of his mother and father pouring over a map. There was another of Nathalie bent over some carvings in what looked like the ruins of the village. 

The photos were almost sweet, despite the clammy dread that had been turning Adrien’s skin to ice. All this time he had been blindly trusting of the guardians because Fu had been. But Fu had been a child, taken from his home, his only option was to trust them, or go back to his village and starve. Now molten suspicion seeped into his cracking trust.

She wrote of finding the peacock and butterfly miraculous, but wrote more of her fierce desire to find more. The writing grew more determined, more tunnel minded. She thought of only finding more miraculous boxes, of removing them from this questionable hierarchy, of making such powers known to the people. 

“Why should they belong only one small group of men.” his mother implored him in her writing, “Why can’t we give them to the people who need them, so we can change our societies, so we can make them better?”

Marinette looked at him, confliction clear in her eyes. Her powers had been nurtured by Master Fu, he was dear to her, like family. She couldn’t possibly want to believe such things about the Guardians Fu admired so much. But at the same time, his mother’s words made a terrible amount of sense. He had not been so close to Fu. It was easier for him to believe that the man’s trust in the guardians was misguided. And he wanted to believe his mother was good. That she left him for something worthwhile. 

“That’s… not good.” Alya said, eyes fixed into the distance. 

“Adrien,” Marinette murmured softly, reading ahead.

The writing was obsessive, using the miraculous to search for any way to recover the temple, any place the miraculous could be if not the temple. She reasoned that there was at least one Guardian left, with the miracle box of the peacock and butterfly. Her handwriting became an incoherent scrawl, frantically describing her pain, the stories she had heard of damaged miraculouses. She detailed her plans to make Gabriel revive her, utilizing the last guardian, and his possession of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. The journal’s writings ended abruptly, several blank pages left.

“So,” Adrien said finally, squirming uncomfortably, “I’m guessing we’re not going with the whole ‘taking the miracle box back to the Temple’ thing.”

“Uh… yeah no,” Marinette agreed, “Definitely not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how we feeling about Emilie?  
> How are we feeling about the Guardians?
> 
> All comments are super duper appreciated btw, I read and reread every single one. Any thoughts, feelings, questions, they are all super helpful for my motivation and writing process.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes tell Gabriel about Emilie's motivation for using the miraculous. Nathalie is suspicious of everything for like the entire chapter.

Nathalie stared at the multicolored flock of superpowered teenagers sitting in front of her. She had always thought the length of the Agreste dining table was absurd, considering Gabriel’s deep introversion and Emilie’s obsessive protectiveness baring most visitors from the house. But, now that Adrien’s charming personality had his classmates in his thrall, the excessive seating seemed a bit more reasonable.

It wasn’t the entire hero gang, however, just Carapace, Rena Rouge, Queen Bee, and Marinette and Adrien, obviously. The five seemed the closest knit of the entire friend group, Nathalie noted silently. She had no reason to analyze them, and she was certain Adrien would disapprove, but her days of villainy had established some hard-to-break habits.

Gabriel sat at her side, opposite the magical children, watching his son intently as the boy described the findings of the journal with a professional disinterest that was so similar to her own facade it was startling.

“-her motivation for using the miraculous was to remove them from the questionable establishment they were in, and make them accessible to the public. We still do not know how the miraculous broke. Any questions?”

She remained silent. 

“May I read the journal,” Gabriel asked politely. The other teens looked at him with barely concealed sharpness, their stances rife with tension. Despite their admirable efforts to conceal it, their hatred was sulfurous, permeating the room so tangibly she didn’t need a miraculous to sense it. Adrien simply handed the book across the table, eyes blank. 

Gabriel flipped through the pages, skimming a few in the middle before tucking it into his suit. 

“She dedicated herself to a very admirable cause Mr. Agreste,” Carapace said comfortingly, despite the thinly veiled daggers he was glaring into Gabriel’s skull, “Despite your cruel actions, your promise to her was a noble one, and she seemed a very impressive woman.”

Something about the statement made Nathalie tense. 

“Thank you,” Gabriel replied, eyes wide with surprise at the boy’s small kindness. “She was a wonderful person, I’m proud to hear she dedicated herself to such a righteous goal.”

“We want to do what we can to investigate the issues Emilie found in the current miraculous system, so we can remedy any problems we find, if any,” Marinette said with no small reluctance, unable to look him in the eye, “Her fight seems like worthy one, we’re going to try and honor that.”

Nathalie tasted salt and metal. Her tongue was slick with blood from her bitten cheek. Despite it, she bit harder into her own flesh, desperately trying to suppress her own rising anger. “Yes, how admirable,” she thought bitterly, “she put some bout of moral righteousness over her own child.”

Everyone turned to look at her, mouths agape. Her eyes widened, realizing she had said it out loud. Her hand instinctively pressed against her lips. 

“I know you’ve been a villain for a while, but generally, moral righteousness is, in fact, considered admirable,” Queen Bee told her unhelpfully. 

Nathalie stood abruptly and slammed her hands on the table. Gabriel placed a hand warningly on the small of her back before she could say anything she’d regret, and quickly guided her out of the room. “We’ll just be a moment,” he told the heroes shortly before shutting the door behind him.

Gabriel pulled her to the center of the foyer. White light dappled the marble floors. He looked at her expectantly. 

“You’re not going to like what I have to say,” she told him, seething. 

“I agree, I don’t think I’m going to like it either. But we said we’d work through the aftermath of all this together, and this is what that entails. Please talk to me.”

“Well, now she’s righteous. She’s admirable. She’s a fucking martyr. Because, what, she neglected her family to entertain some whim of her moral compass? She should have put her son first! She wasn’t a woman who had nothing to lose who could just abandon safety for a cause, she had a child who needed her. But we’re going to ignore that because it was for a good purpose?” Nathalie ranted.

“Nathalie, motherhood isn’t some all-encompassing endeavor that required her to abandon her passions. She had to make sacrifices for the greater good but I’m sure she didn’t want to leave us,” he said infuriatingly calmly.

“That wasn’t a passion Gabriel, that was an obsession! Motherhood may not be all-encompassing but she still had an obligation to her son. You can’t just sacrifice your life for ‘the greater good’ when you have a child who is dependent on you!” 

“You say that but isn’t that the exact same thing you did as Mayura? Sacrificed everything despite the people who need you. She probably thought she was protecting the child who was dependent on her, just like you did!” he retorted, irritation seeping into his voice.

“It’s not the same!” Nathalie protested weakly. “Besides, if she truly wanted to dismantle the Order of the Guardians surely she would’ve told someone about the issue, or used the butterfly miraculous when the peacock broke! She was just entertaining some righteous hero fantasy!”

“She probably didn’t want to involve other people as it would put them at risk. The butterfly would have required bringing other people to the cause and putting them in dangerous positions.”

Nathalie glowered at the ground. Maybe she was as heartless as her last name suggested, but she would have put a thousand people at risk if it meant sparing Adrien from pain.

Gabriel looked at her and sighed. “Nathalie, I don’t disagree that Adrien should’ve been a higher priority for her, and for me. But I think she saw it in a different light. To you, it was selfish of her to choose a cause she was passionate about over her family. For her, to choose her family over a cause that could help hundreds of people would have seemed selfish. It’s complicated.”

“Perhaps,” Nathalie agreed mildly, though internally she remained apprehensive. Maybe she was being unreasonable, but Emilie had knowingly left Adrien motherless and grieving. She could have cultivated world peace for all Nathalie cared, she was still no saint. 

“I’m sorry this has upset you,” Gabriel added apologetically.

She waved him off, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s futile anger anyway, I can’t do anything about it.”

“I appreciate you speaking with me about it.”

“It was that or reminding that striped brat just how evil I can be.”

Gabriel chuckled, “How fowl of you.”

“A peacock pun? Seriously?” she asked flatly, despite the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He smiled at her softened expression. “Shall we go back?”

“Sure,” she agreed simply, anger ebbing.

Gabriel opened the door for her, and several teenagers fell through the open doorway. 

Marinette, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of the dining table, giggled at her toppled friends.

Carapace bolted across the room to help them up.

“Hi,” Adrien waved sheepishly at her from his spot on the floor.

“Hey, kitten,” Nathalie replied smugly, hands on her hips. “Hear anything interesting?”

“Not really,” The boy said, getting up awkwardly.

Queen Bee and Rena Rouge collected their dignity and stood up.

Queen Bee turned to her. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was insensitive, and generally pretty dumb. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

Nathalie looked at the girl with a fond sort of exasperation. From what Adrien had told her during their nightly rendezvous, Chloe was a blunt and insecure but well-intentioned girl, with a crappy mother figure. His sympathy for her was contagious. “Maybe I’ll forcibly adopt her next,” Nathalie considered.

“Remember that time I kicked your ass on a roof?” Nathalie asked.

“That was multiple times but yeah?”

“Okay well, we’re even for those times.”

“Was that an apology accepted?” The blonde girl asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, sure kid.”

Queen Bee smiled awkwardly and moved out of the doorframe. The adults resumed their original seats.

“Ah- anyway,” Ladybug resumed, attempting to return to the purpose of the little meeting, “We decided the best course of action to explore the issues Emillie was trying to solve was to ask the Kwamis what they know about the Guardians. Since Nooro and Duusu are both part of the seven main miraculouses of the miracle box, we wanted them to be there during the questioning, and they’ll only come out if they have holders. Therefore we will temporarily redistribute them to you, not to transform, simply to allow them to be present. We would have gotten other heroes to do it, but you two are the only other people who are aware of the situation.”

She slid the two pins across the table. Both adults glanced at each other before reaching out hesitantly for the jewels. Nooro appeared meekly, blinking silently at his surroundings before settling close to Gabriel’s shoulder. Duusu, on the other hand, materialized with a loud whoop, spinning dizzying circles around Nathalie.

Nathalie felt herself smile at the little blue blur. She looked around for anything with coffee to give the little Kwami. 

“If you are thinking of giving the little monster coffee, I implore you: do not,” Gabriel pleaded solemnly. 

She gave an exaggerated pout. “But the heroes of Paris haven’t had the pleasure of meeting caffeinated Duusu yet.” She turned to the teens, “She’s such a treat.”

The heroes gave her an appalled look. 

“I think I agree with Hawkmoth on this one.” Rena Rouge muttered.

Adrien looked disappointed. “Aww, I wanted to meet caffeinated Duusu.”

“That’s my boy,” Nathalie praised mischievously as Duusu finally calmed down and plopped affectionately on her shoulder. 

“I missed youuu!” Duusu crooned.

“I missed you too Dus,” Nathalie said, patting the Kwami’s fuzzy little head. It had only been a few days, but the lack of Duusu’s presence had been surprisingly difficult to adjust to.  
Sure she had an emotional clusterfuck to deal with, along with her actual paying job, so it wasn’t as if she had a lot of time on her hands to entertain the Kwami, but she still missed her.

Queen Bee detransformed first, a fuzzy little bee kwami appearing regally in front of them. “This is Pollen,” Chloe introduced. Pollen dipped her head in a little bow. 

“Guess it’s inevitable,” Rena Rouge sighed before dropping her transformation to reveal the ladyblogger girl. 

Nathalie gave her a flat stare. To her credit, the girl didn’t shrink back and instead stared right back. “Since the cat’s out of the bag, I wanted to apologize to you about invading your privacy with that livestream. You asked me to stop and I should have listened. I took the video down a little while afterward.”

Nathalie thought back to the swaths of press and paparazzi she had fought off in her career. They were quick to twist stories into nightmares and had started countless nasty rumors about her, the moment she had started working for the Agrestes. They had no respect for Adrien’s privacy and took advantage of his polite demeanor like wolves. This girl wasn’t like them. She was curious and honest, and genuine remorse pulsed through the miraculous in Nathalie’s palm. She sighed and supposed it couldn’t hurt to make nice with Adrien’s friends. 

Nathalie gave a merciful smile, “Don’t worry about it.” The girl - Alya, she believed - brightened.

Carapace was the last to reveal his identity. To Nathalie’s satisfaction, it was Adrien’s best friend Nino, who she had already partially won over by occasionally smuggling the boy into the house to play video games with Adrien. They didn’t exactly, ‘get along,’ considering his informal and carefree nature, and her prim rigidity, but they had a mutual love of Adrien, so a truce had formed between the two. 

The boy refused to make eye contact with Gabriel and instead turned to her. “By the way Nathalie, my Dadi Jan appreciates Mayura’s Sanskrit name,” Nino told her.

Nathalie smiled, “My Nani Amma, taught me some Sanskrit. Mayura’s outfit is inspired by shalwar kameez she used to sew.” 

The boy’s eyes widened, “Really? You don’t look-” He stopped, embarrassed. His cheeks darkened.

“-Desi? She smiled, “I’m only a quarter, the rest of my family is french so you can’t really tell. I can still make a damn good paratha though.”

Nino grinned, “Oh god please teach me some time, my baba keeps making fun of me because mine are all weird shapes.”

Nathalie laughed. Adrien looked baffled but also immeasurably happy they were getting along. 

A green Kwami dipped in front of Nino. “Hello all, I am called Wayzz.”

Marinette nodded at him and glanced around at the present Kwamis. “I have some questions for you Kwamis and anyone else, of course, feel free to pipe in. I suppose my most pressing question is: what were the Guardians like?”

Nathalie leaned forward in interest. Emilie may have had questionable methods, but she had to admit, the woman’s suspicion of the Guardians seemed uncomfortably plausible. 

The Kwamis eyed each other. Wayzz floated forward. “We do not know miss, we were never worn by Guardians, besides Fu of course. We did not communicate.”

“Who were you worn by?” Adrien asked. 

“Apprentices,” Duusu piped happily, unaware of the suffocating tension rising. 

“What did the apprentices do with the miraculous powers?” Gabriel asked. The Kwamis (save Nooro and Duusu) glared at him.

“They removed any threats to the temple,” Nooro told his former owner obediently. “Any creatures or intruders.”

“Creatures?” Queen Bee asked warily.

“Nothing to be concerned about my queen,” Pollen told her, “The power of all the miracle boxes together drew some of the forgotten inhabitants of the earth. They were all destroyed by the apprentices.”

“And I’m sure some of the apprentices were destroyed as well,” Alya said tersely.

The Kwamis dipped their heads sadly at the reminder. “We saw many owners perish,” Trixx whimpered.

Plagg seemed to despair at the sadness afflicting his brothers and sisters. They were sad about the very destruction Plagg embodied, Nathalie realized with a pang of sympathy. It must have been painful to be a representation of the very plight that plagued the people he loved.

“Hey,” Plagg said airily, attempting to lighten the mood, “It’s just part of the gig. We’re immortals, we’ve seen the rise and fall of all eras of the earth. Remember the dinosaurs guys. Whooo weee can you imagine the problems we’d have if they were still around? Sometimes change can be for the better!”

“That’s impossible,” Nathalie scoffed, “You couldn’t have seen the dinosaurs.”

“Hey lady, what part of ‘immortal’ did you not understand?” Plagg joked.

Nathalie stared at him, mind working faster than her mouth could. There was something wrong with that picture, but she couldn’t understand it yet. Her heart started racing.

“No,” she whispered. “No,” she repeated, louder, “When I used a broken miraculous, it wasn’t the stones that were damaged. It was the silver backing of the pin.”

She wasn’t sure why that was important, but her mind kept running over that fact the way she had run the thumbs over the jagged cracks in the pin. Everyone stared at her.

“It wasn’t the stones that were cracked, stones that could have existed during the time of the dinosaurs.” She said slowly. Something clicked together in her head. Her eyes widened. “It was the part of the pin that was forged by human hands. The miraculouses are man-made. They were made by people to be worn by people. Their powers are linked not only to the stones but are also dependent on the binding, every part of the jewel is involved. But if you come from an object that is man-made how could you have existed during the time of the dinosaurs?”

Plagg stared at her silently. Everyone glanced between her and the kwamis, shocked.

“If your existence is bound to a man-made jewel how could you have existed before humanity?” Nathalie demanded with a deadly sharpness. 

The Kwamis looked around in alarm. 

“She’s right,” one of them whispered.

“I can’t remember,” added another, “and Kwamis do not forget things.”

“Why don’t we know the answer,” one whimpered.

“I don’t know,” Plagg whispered to her, tiny body tense with the realization, “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are y'all feeling about the Guardians? Emilie? The Kwamis?
> 
> Once again, comments are super appreciated, I read all of them and try to take everything y'all tell me into account while I'm writing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens? Nothing, literally fucking nothing.

Ladybug’s voice was clear and authoritative as she spoke into the camera, despite Alya’s gritted reminders to sound happy. She detailed Hawkmoth and Mayura’s surrender in the vaguest possible terms and explained how they would be brought to the order of Guardians for punishment. Neither identity was revealed, but they showed Hawkmoth and Mayura standing obediently behind Ladybug, wrists wound in her yoyo. Of course, the triumphant resolute atmosphere was slightly marred by the fact that they were filming on Alya’s balcony, but they couldn’t think of another place that wouldn’t potentially incriminate one of them, or get them surrounded by the press. 

The speech very pointedly glorified his role in their defeat, an attempt to curb the gritty distrust the citizens of Paris had begun to harbor for Chat Noir. No comment was made on his friendship with Mayura. Alya’s script smoothly glossed over anything that could prompt further questioning. She said that the relief would distract people long enough for them to do damage control.

The damage control in question was figuring out what secrets the supposed guardians were hiding. Everyone had been in an uproar after Nathalie pointed out the paradox of the kwamis being immortal, but the most unsettling thing was that the kwamis had no memory of when the miraculouses were made, or how the jewels were tied to their existence. They each silently came to the realization that the Guardians must have tampered with their memories, and there was something truly unnatural going on. 

Marinette and Alya were the first to draw everyone from their shock, focusing them instead on an announcement to the public about Hawkmoth and Mayura’s surrender. The two girls shared a cunning sort of spark in their eyes, and he was confident the pair of best friends already had a plan in mind. While they had schemed and set up for the video, he and Nino shared a bowl of popcorn on Alya’s couch. Nino let him listen to his “Sad Boi Hours” playlist.

His father and Nathalie had milled awkwardly on the other side of the room, constantly glancing at the door in fear of Alya’s parents coming home. She had already assured them her parents would be at work all day, and Nora was out with the twins, but it clearly did nothing to ease their nerves.

It wasn’t until Alya called “Cut!” on the last take and they all detransformed that they finally seemed to settle down. The girls pushed everyone to the couch and told them to relax. Asking you to relax around your family who are also your sworn enemies is generally quite the endeavor to ask of someone, but Adrien quickly felt at ease when Chloe sampled a piece of popcorn and dramatically condoned it as “horrid peasant food”. She kept glancing at him to see if her rant had distracted him from their current situation, and he pretended not to notice. Nino teased her lightheartedly about being like a picky five-year-old. His father and Nathalie rolled their eyes and made not at all subtle exasperated eye contact, but even they looked sort of amused. Adrien felt almost happy. Chloe brightened at the almost-smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Nino slung an arm around his shoulders and leaned his head against his.

“Okay!” Marinette said, sliding out from Alya’s bedroom, fingers waggling theatrically. “The video has been edited and will be uploaded to the Ladyblog as soon as Alya completes the finishing touches.” She gave everyone a shaky smile. Her face grew tense- as if she were about to tell them something serious.

“So, as the ‘guardian’ of our miracle box, I have decided to go to the temple in Tibet and investigate the so-called Guardians. I want to get answers for our kwamis and make sure they will not be a threat to our safety or the safety of anyone else. Alya has already agreed to go with me. I wanted to offer you guys the option of going with us if you want to. However, I don’t want you to feel obligated to go, and I want you to be safe more than anything.”

Both Marinette and Nathalie were looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please stay here,” they were thinking, “Please stay in Paris, safe and useless.”

“I’m going,” he said stubbornly. Neither woman looked surprised.

“Wherever my best bro goes, I go too,” Nino told her. 

“You can’t possibly think I’d let you guys have all the fun,” Chloe pouted, “Of course I’m going to help.”

His father looked almost sheepish. “If I could be of any service, I would appreciate if I could go as well.”

Nino scowled but Marinette gave a merciful smile. “Thank you.”

All eyes turned to Nathalie. His father put an arm around her shoulders protectively. “The peacock miraculous was broken, she still hasn’t fully recovered.”

Nathalie arched an eyebrow at him. “The only reason we are even in this situation is because I am willing to do anything to protect Adrien, so if you think I’ll let him walk into danger without me you’re delusional.”

His father huffed, “I should’ve known it was a lost cause.”

“I don’t need anyone’s protection,” Adrien muttered indignantly.

“Oh, Nathalie!” Marinette fretted, “You should have told me you were still experiencing symptoms, there might be a potion in the grimoire to help you.”

Nathalie gave her a grateful smile, “That would be wonderful Marinette. Thank you.”

Before the girl could respond Alya surged out of her room, talking a mile a minute.

“Okay so I posted the video and it’s already blowing up! Everyone is so relieved they haven’t realized that we left out some details to our story, just as I predicted. People in the comments are already planning parties and trips in celebration. I’m assuming by now everyone has agreed to go to Tibet because we’re all predictable and stubborn, which is good because my plan kinda needs all of us, but Marinette is too nice to make you feel pressured to do anything.”

She pointed a finger at his father. “Okay, so since celebrating Hawkmoth’s defeat is becoming a trend you are going to very publicly take a trip to Tibet in celebration. You’ll say that you’re letting Adrien invite some of his friends- us obviously- and that’s the ruse we’ll tell our parents and the press. You’ll have to pay for the trip but you’re rich and you’ve made our lives hell so you can deal with it.”

His father nodded mildly, though Adrien could tell he was internally bristling at how Alya was speaking to him. He wanted to laugh but didn’t

She turned to the rest of them, “Then we’ll go to Tibet, tell them we’re miraculous wielders and we’re there to deliver our miracle box, but before we do we want to stay with Marinette while she studies with the other Guardians. Then we infiltrate and do whatever we can to get answers. If we can’t do it peacefully we’ll do it with magic, but either way, we are going to figure out what the hell is going on.

“You sound like you’re already prepared to throw hands,” Nino told his girlfriend.

She smiled at him, “Officially, we are just going to look for answers. Unofficially, if I find out any of those Guardians did something to my dear Trixx Rena Rouge is going to shove her flute up their-”

His father cleared his throat. 

Marinette giggled. “Okay so now that we have that detail clarified are you guys still willing to go with us? We’ll be pretty out of our depth in the temple so definitely feel free to change your mind at any time. Safety first.”

“You don’t have to compensate for the old Guardian not giving you a choice in becoming Ladybug by being excessively obliging,” Chloe told her bluntly.

Marinette blinked at her.

“You’re not him,” Choe continued, softer this time, “You’re not responsible for his misguided leadership, and you don’t have to prove that you’re not like these other Guardians. We know, and we already love you, so you can tell us that you need our help.”

Marinette smiled at her. “Thanks, Chlo.”

Chloe blew a kiss.

“Well, now that we have a plan in place you’re all free to go and prepare for whatever we might have to deal with at the temple. I recommend asking your kwamis for any information that might be useful and to pack warm for the trip,” Alya told them. 

Everyone filed out quickly, checking their phones to read the reactions on the Ladyblog. Alya was right, everyone was ecstatic. There were already people making reaction videos and memes out of screenshots. Adrien grimaced at the people being rude about Mayura, but Nathalie didn’t seem to mind. He tried to linger behind her, unsure of what to do. 

Everyone else was going home to prepare and celebrate and whatever else. But Adrien cringed away from the thought of being back in that house. He hated knowing that under the floor his mother was buried under the ground. There were too many secrets in its walls for it to be called a home. But there wasn’t a word for a building made of secrets, so he figured that was the place everyone was expecting him to go back to. He certainly couldn’t stay with the Dupain-Chengs again, they had done so much for him already.

Adrien was staring so intensely at the floor he didn’t pay attention to where he was walking. Nathalie had to yank him back by the shoulders to keep him from walking into the elevator doors. 

“Whoa, there kid,” she said, turning him to face her. “Watch where you’re walking.”

He nodded, “Right, sorry.”

“Everything okay?” She asked gently.

His eyes flicked to his father, who stood beside them awkwardly- as if he were intruding on a private moment. Adrien felt a strange sense of understanding. It was how he felt when he was with the Dupain-Chengs- like he was encroaching on a familiarity that he had no part of. In Adrien’s case, it was because they were a different family, and he was a stranger to them. In his father’s case, it was his own family that he did not belong to.

“Everything’s fine,” he said, “I just don’t want to go back to that house. Everything is too fresh for me.”

Nathalie did not look surprised. “The Dupain-Chengs said you could stay with them for as long as you like.”

“I don’t want to ask that of them. They’ve already done so much for me.” 

Nathalie pursed her lips, “I would tell you that you’re not a burden, and you shouldn’t feel bad asking people for help, but that would make me a hypocrite.”

Adrien smiled.

“You can stay in my apartment if you like,” she offered, “I have a spare bedroom with an attached bathroom, so you’ll have a space all to yourself.” 

“You sure?”

“Of course,” she said ruffling his hair affectionately. “You can bring whatever you like from your room.” 

He leaned his head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Natty,” She squeezed his shoulder.

His father remained silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this to y'all, and that it was so short, this chapter was just not very eventful so I couldn't get motivated to write it. The next few chapters should be longer and more frequent... unless the hurricane throws a wrench in my plans. Yay living on the Texas coast!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie wrangles a gaggle of teenagers.

Nathalie quickly realized living with Adrien was very different than working with him. Sure, her hours and responsibilities resulted in familiarity that was beyond the norms of any other Gabriel brand employee, but they had both tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism between them. In the week Adrien had stayed at her apartment she had caught him eating shredded cheese in the kitchen at two am three times.

“I thought I was being robbed!” She told him.

“If someone tried to rob you it’s them who should be afraid. I mean this is the home of infamous supervillain Mayura, with special guest Chat Noir, and Ladybug and Hawkmoth popping in occasionally to make you magic healing potions.” He had retorted easily, pouring himself a glass of milk.

“You make it sound like our lives are some sort of bizarre reality show.”

“At this point, they might as well be.”

She also realized how absolutely wild his hair was. She had always assumed the fluffy bedhead the boy had had when he was a toddler had gone away as he got older, but apparently his neat hair was the product of vigorous hair-brushing. Every morning he looked ridiculous, fluffy blonde locks sticking in every direction. There were some strands of hair that stuck up in stiff peaks, and she suspected it was from his kwami Plagg grooming Adrien’s hair while he slept. Nathalie chose not the question him. Tiny gods of destruction weren’t really the kind of creatures to be trifled with.

One day at breakfast she came to a realization. “Adrien I think you may have curly hair.”

“What?” The boy asked sleepily, looking up from the plate of eggs he was working on.

“That’s why your hair is so crazy. You go to bed with wet hair and then brush it as you do with straight hair. But maybe if you leave it your hair might curl.”

Adrien checked his watch. “I have a few minutes before school, we can try it.”

Nathalie smiled and went into her bathroom. She came back with an armload of hair products. 

“Why do you have these?” Adrien asked, reading one of the labels. “You don’t have curly hair.”

“No, but my brother does. He likes to stay here when he’s in Paris so I try to keep his things on hand.”

Adrien gasped, “I have an uncle!”

Nathalie spritzed his hair with water and combed through it gently. “Yes, yes I suppose you do. And two cousins.”

“Cousins?” Adrien demanded, delighted.

Nathalie smiled, unused to anyone showing such enthusiasm about learning anything about her. “Yes, two girls. Juliette and Catherine.” She sprayed a bit of curl conditioner on his damp hair and scrunched it lightly.

“Juliette and Catherine,” he mused happily. “How old are they?”

Nathalie sat back down at the table to let his hair dry. “Eight and Four. Juliette loves dancing and Catherine likes superheroes. They’d just adore you.”

Adrien drummed his feet against chair legs. “And what’s your brother’s name?”

“Elliott- and his husband’s name is Rahul.” 

Adrien clapped his hands. “Finally, family members who sound nice!”

Nathalie giggled. “I’ll have to introduce you.” She handed him a small handheld mirror. His hair had dried into thick golden ringlets. The curls were absolutely adorable. Nathalie wished she could be there to see Marinette’s reaction. 

“Woah!” Adrien marveled, tugging at his curls and watching them bounce. “Where did I get these from? I know father doesn’t have curly hair.”

“Your mother had curls, but she always styled them away,” Nathalie told him automatically before cringing. It had only been a little over a week since they had laid her to rest, so bringing her up was probably not the best idea. Adrien didn’t seem to mind though, he just nodded and grabbed his backpack. 

“Thanks, Nathalie, maybe after school you can show me what products to use with curly hair. Gorilla just texted that he’s here so I’m going now.”

“You know you can just call him Gregor.”

“Yeah but he’s had that nickname since I was little, I can’t give it up now!”

Nathalie smiled and shook her head. “Bye, Kitten.”

Adrien turned to wave at her from the front door, “Bye Natty!”

Nathalie headed to work as soon as he left. Normally that would have made her outrageously late, but Gabriel had pushed back her start time so she could have breakfast with Adrien. It was small, but Nathalie deeply appreciated the gesture considering she knew how much he hated being alone in that house. It had finally clicked to him she supposed, that when Emilie was out of the picture he had very little tying him to the world. 

When she entered the mansion Nathalie was surprised to see Marinette there, discussing something very intensely with Gabriel. They seemed to be arguing, but not with the fervor of two mortal enemies, and more with the energy of two passionate and stubborn fashion designers. When they spotted her they immediately silenced and shoved whatever sketches they were working on in a folder. Nathalie raised an eyebrow.

“Marinette, you’re going to be late for school,” she reminded the girl. 

“Oh crud,” Marinette hissed before dashing out the door. “This discussion isn’t over,” she shouted at Gabriel as she ran down the steps.

“What was that about?” Nathalie asked, amused.

“I’ll tell you in a moment, but first I have to ask you a question.” Gabriel told her, “How would you feel about helping me host a gala?”

Nathalie blinked for a second. Whatever she was expecting it certainly was not that. “I can get everything set up in a week- but why on Earth would you host a Gala.”

“Well the children have their plan to go to Tibet, but I still think people would find it suspicious if we just up and went to Tibet in ‘celebration’.”

“That’s true,” Nathalie agreed, “Especially with your reputation of being a-”

“Recluse?”

“Homebody.” 

“So I thought it would raise fewer suspicions If I held a Gala in Tibet instead,” he continued, “We’d say it’s to celebrate the defeat of Hawkmoth and Mayura, of course.”

Nathalie smiled. “Oh, the irony.”

Gabriel chuckled.

“It’s a sound plan, I’ll get started right away,” Nathalie agreed, “But what was that argument with Marinette?”

“I already proposed the idea to Marinette, who was very obliging. We were working on the designs for everyone and disagreed on some of the features.”

“You two are designing what we’ll wear?”

“Of course,” he scoffed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They may have been my enemies but I won’t let any of them come to my gala in distasteful clothes.”

Nathalie couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, of course.”

“Are you laughing at me, my dear?”

“Me, laugh at you? Never.” 

“You know you’re lucky I’m so passionate about fashion, if it weren’t for me you would only wear sweaters,” Gabriel told her.

“Well you’re lucky to have me- if you didn’t have me around you’d have to do math,” Nathalie retorted.

He grimaced at the thought, “Have I mentioned I appreciate you and your math skills very much?”

“You could stand to mention it more. Can I see the designs?” she asked.

“Absolutely not.”

She pouted before retreating into the office to begin planning the gala. Gabriel went in and out of the office- designing outfits, handling decorations, and color palettes, and flowers, and all sorts of artsy details Nathalie had no sense in. 

After several hours (and several more cups of coffee) she heard a commotion in the foyer. She walked in to find the gaggle of teenagers at the entrance, with backpacks and schoolbags already littering the floor.

Adrien grinned at her, “I brought everyone over to study!”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, “And I’m sure you’ll get a lot of studying done. Do you want snacks?”

There was a chorus of enthusiastic yes’.

Nathalie led them to the kitchen while internally laughing at herself. “If we had just treated them like normal dorky teenagers we would’ve had those miraculouses months ago. We could have lured them with snacks.”

She fed the group apple slices with peanut butter and tried to ignore the urge to scold them when the kids decided to sit in wildly inappropriate places. Chloe was perched on the kitchen island, Alya was sprawled on the floor, Marinette was lying across the counters, and Adrien was sitting on a barstool with Nino on his lap letting his friend play with his curls.

“You know, we have enough chairs for all of you in the dining room,” Nathalie told them pointedly.

“Ew, moving,” Chloe said.

“Also what inherently makes a chair better than the floor. They’re both just horizontal, only one is big horizontal, and one is small horizontal,” Alya said philosophically.”

“Because we like to be tall even when sitting. The entirety of humanity has a height complex,” Marinette replied seriously.

Nathalie silently thanked everything holy in the world that she wasn’t a teenager anymore and left the kitchen.

She ran into Gabriel in the foyer.

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” she whispered to him, “But I think the house is infested.”

“With what?” he whispered back (which amused her considering she hadn’t actually given him a reason to be whispering).

“Teenagers,” she answered in a dire voice.

“Oh god, call the exterminators.” 

She laughed. “They’re in the kitchen. They said they’re here to study but I think Marinette has told them about the gala idea, and they want to help or something.”

“Help? Oh no, Adrien and Marinette texted me that they’re just here to make demands on their outfit designs.”

Nathalie scoffed, “I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed with clothes!”

“Nathalie, do you realize what my occupation is?”

“Oh yes sorry, I forgot, you’re Mr. Obsessed-With-Clothes.”

A satanic sounding chanting came from the kitchen.

“Oh, that sound’s like your problem,” she said quickly before darting into the office.

“Betrayed by my own assistant,” he lamented, “You were willing to follow me into a life of crime, but not a kitchen full of teenagers.”

“Sounds about right,” she said cheerfully before shutting the office door and getting back to work.

**************

The next two weeks passed in a whirlwind of planning, organizing, and being surrounded by chaotic children. Invitations were sent out to them and their parents, all of whom eagerly accepted. They also invited all sorts of celebrity contacts Gabriel suggested, just to keep up appearances. Nathalie was incredibly tempted to accidentally misplace Audrey Bourgeois’s invitation but didn’t. If the woman wasn’t a multimillionaire with deep ties to Gabriel’s company and the mother of one of Adrien’s friends Nathalie definitely would have decked her at some point. Or at least bitch slapped. It was a pleasant fantasy anyway.

Nathalie was surprised how well Marinette and Gabriel got along. Of course, they still hated each other, but that aside they seemed to enjoy designing together. And they seemed to agree on maintaining a certain level of secrecy from the rest of them. Every time she or one of the other teenagers (who had apparently decided that probably haunted mansions were the coolest new place to hang out) entered the room while they were working, the two designers immediately scrambled to conceal their work. 

It wasn’t an issue for Nathalie, she had gone to galas before and had never been handed anything more interesting than a plain black dress, so she wasn’t all that intrigued. Chloe however, was dying to get a glimpse of her suit. Alya was curious as always, and even Nino was eager to see his design. The boy had apparently had the most interesting request of them all, which Gabriel was delighted about. Adrien, who was equally as desensitized to galas as Nathalie, couldn’t have cared less.

The plan was to leave that Friday with the kids and their parents, and the spend the rest of the day relaxing at the mountain-side hotel where they were hosting the gala. The gala would be held on Saturday and the rest of the week could be spent “relaxing” (dealing with the guardians). They were lucky spring break lined up so well with the plan, so the kids could spend the whole week in Tibet without missing any school.

If Nathalie was being honest, she wasn't terribly worried about what they might face in the guardian’s temple. Whatever it was, surely they could handle it. She knew first hand how powerful those kids could be with their miraculouses, and she’d seen the chaos and destruction a single akuma or sentimonster could wreak. No, what she was worried about was being stuck on a plane with a group of teenagers and their parents for several hours straight. Those kids had enough energy and mischief to consume the entirety of the Agreste mansion, and being in one small space with them for hours on end could be more stress than she could handle.

Nathalie flinched when she heard loud playful shouts coming from Adrien’s bedroom followed by a distinct thud.

She was never going to survive that plane ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was just a lot fluff and very little of anything else ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Tibet and be dumb. Thanks to my sibling for coming up with the summary for me. For the record, they haven't read the chapter yet- so I'm impressed with the accuracy.

Are you sure you’ve packed everything?” Nathalie asked for the third time in twenty minutes. 

He had, in fact, packed everything three whole days ago, in accordance with an overly detailed checklist Nathalie made for him. Adrien was positive no one else’s mom obsessively created detailed packing checklists and enforced them a whole week before the trip and personally double-checked them, but at this point, he was used to it. Before, he assumed Nathalie did that because it was her job, but after living with her for a few weeks he realized checklists and schedules were just how she showed affection. 

They were at the threshold of her small apartment, preparing to go to the airport. It was dark, the sun hadn’t even begun to breach the sky. Nathalie had insisted that they arrive at the airport at least three hours before the flight and all the other parents had nodded approvingly when she proposed it. Adrien didn’t really see the point- his father had rented a private plane for the trip so it wasn’t like it was going to leave without them.

“Don’t worry, I have everything I need,” he reassured easily, placing a hand on his suitcase for emphasis. 

She nodded and glanced around the apartment one last time to ensure everything was ready for their week of absence. She seemed reluctant to leave it, and Adrien was surprised to find it was a shared sentiment. Despite the short time he had spent there, Adrien had quickly grown attached to the apartment. Nathalie’s apartment wad as he expected- tidy and practical, but it felt more like a home than a mausoleum, which was more than could be said for his father’s home. 

And there were little things that made it feel so personal, it felt like Adrien was supposed to have been there for far longer. Nathalie had framed crayon drawings that he had made as a kid, the date he made them written carefully on one of the corners. There were boxes of assorted teas with his, his fathers, and his bodyguard’s favorite types, despite Nathalie only liking mint. She had copies of books that, over the years, had mysteriously appeared on his bookshelf at home that he was sure his father would never have approved of. She kept plants that she let him water and name, and even used a label-maker to stick the names he appointed them on their pots. It was all so nice and familiar the idea of leaving for a week was almost disconcerting.   
Still, he wanted to get to the bottom of the Guardian mystery, and maybe honor his mother’s legacy. Nathalie very vocally didn’t give a damn about his mother’s legacy (“She’s dead and probably wouldn’t want you in danger for her sake!”) but seemed eager to feel she deserved the forgiveness he had already given her, so they resolutely grabbed their bags and stepped out the door. 

Gorilla was already waiting for them in front of Nathalie’s apartment in a dark limousine. 

“Honestly Gabriel, is a limo really necessary?” Nathalie asked, amused. 

“Of course,” his father dismissed casually, “We’re picking up the other families- we need a large vehicle.”

She smiled, “And you also needed an outlet for your flair for the dramatics?”

He raised his hands in concession, “I just need everyone to know I am so rich, all the time.”

Nathalie laughed. His father glanced at him.

Adrien buckled himself awkwardly and looked out the tinted windows. His father had been trying, he really had. He had been trying to be more attentive to Adrien, to be obliging to his friends, anything he could. He seemed almost relieved Nathalie had made him stop being Hawkmoth and Adrien had made him let go of his mother. He had been slipping, Nathalie told him his father had wanted to quit for a while. Everything they had been through gave him an excuse to do that without the guilt of failing on his mission. 

But even if he had been wavering, who knew if he would have ever stopped. If they hadn’t intervened his father might have neglected him for his whole life. He might have injured him or one of the other heroes for his goal. It wasn’t Adrien’s or Nathalie’s job to stand up to him. He was a child. Nathalie was, despite everything, still just an employee. His father was a grown man, who should’ve done better. 

Adrien stared unseeing out the window, unable to just sit there and make easy conversation like he wasn’t still mad. 

Nathalie placed a hand on his comfortingly, and he gave her a brief smile. He didn’t join the conversation until they stopped at the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The family looked equally bewildered and delighted at the prospect of riding in a limo. As they stepped in Nathalie moved to sit next to Sabine, leaving an empty seat by Adrien. Marinette gave him a sweet smile. 

“This seat taken?”

“Nope!” Adrien said, acutely aware of the warming of his cheeks and the memory of all the pictures that everyone texted him the last time Marinette sat next to him in a moving vehicle. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t saved the picture to his camera roll. You know, in that platonic way people look at pictures of their friend asleep on their shoulder.

Marinette grinned and plunked down. Nathalie winked at him over Marinette’s lowered head as the girl buckled herself. He gave her a panicked look. She smiled and turned back to Sabine.

Adrien grabbed his phone and texted her a quick, “DAMN IT NATHALIE,” before glancing back at Marinette. In the past few weeks, the girl had started acting less nervous and more like, well, Ladybug, and Adrien was handling the transition VERY badly. Very badly being blushing like an idiot every time she did anything cool (which was quite frequently). 

Thankfully, it was easy to fall back into their usual banter, even outside the costume. They chatted about schoolwork and family stuff and movies that had come out until they stopped in front of Alya’s apartment building, where the Cesaires and Lahiffes were standing on the sidewalk. Nino was practically asleep on his girlfriend’s shoulder. Nino’s dad was in pajama pants and slippers. 

Everyone piled into the limo and they began to head to the airport (Chloe and her parents were going in their own car, one with no commoners thank you very much) (Honestly Gabriel what’s become of you). Chatter began to rise with the sun, everyone waking up a bit. They stopped at a small cafe to pick up breakfast. Hot coffees and pastries were passed around the limo, and the adults and teens split off into their own conversations, occasionally interjecting in the other if anything particularly outrageous was said. Adrien had been on plenty of early morning flights, but this venture had a different energy to it, the seconds moving slowly, the conversations more hysterical than they ought to have been. There was this bizarre interconnectedness that felt more deeply intimate than he was prepared for. 

If this was what having a big family was like, Adrien was suddenly very jealous of Alya. He was a little sad the twins and Chris were staying with Nora for the weekend, but having a group of small children at a gala probably wasn’t the greatest idea. Well, it sounded like a great idea to him, but the adults had given it a hard veto.

When they arrived at the airport, an escort was already there waiting for them. He led the large group through a private security branch to a terminal for the plane his father rented. The Bourgeois family was already there in what was probably some sort of rich people power move. His father made a pained expression at Nathalie (who rolled her eyes in agreement) before striding over to cordially greeting them. 

The rest of them settled into their seats, with Chloe scampering over to escape her parents, and continued their conversation on whether axolotls or chameleons were better. The argument quickly grew heated, with Chloe threatening to platonically break up with Alya, who in turn threatened to make Adrien her new favorite dumb blonde. Nino and Marinette were frantically trying to de-escalate the situation while Adrien simultaneously tried to escalate it. Finally, Nathalie handed him a wad of snack money and told him to go with his friends to buy unhealthy food. The fight immediately dissipated and they hopped up to find a store with candy somewhere in the airport. 

They were disappointed to find his bodyguard got up and trailed behind them, but he stayed far enough back that they could talk freely. 

They wandered the airport looking for a candy store. Marinette recommended they find a map but everyone else wanted to just walk around so they could dip into any stores that looked interesting. 

When they did end up finding a candy store Alya was immediately fascinated by dispensers for fruit-themed gummies. She and Marinette quickly fell into an animated debate about which gummy-fruit matched each of their vibes. They decided everyone would get a small bag of whichever gummy the others voted on.

Chloe was easily designated as a lemon, which the girl seemed both proud and insulted by.

Marinette was voted as a strawberry, though cherry was briefly considered.

“I think Nino’s a blueberry, not even gonna lie,” Alya told them decisively.

“What, why?” Nino asked, baffled.

“She’s right,” Adrien agreed, “There’s just something about you that’s blueberry-ish.”

“Dude but I’m-” he lowered his voice, “-I’m Carapace, shouldn’t I get something green?”

“They don’t have to match, Marinette and Chloe’s just happened to,” Alya told him.

“Plus Chat Noir was green before Carapace was green,” Adrien added.

Nino raised an eyebrow. “Chat Noir’s costume is mostly black.”

“Yeah but there’s no black fruits.”

“Blackberries.”

“Those are purple.”

“Fine, I’ll get blueberries,” Nino conceded with fond exasperation.

They unanimously designated Alya as an orange.

“I think Adrien is a carrot,” Marinette stated matter-of-factly. Chloe burst out laughing. Adrien but a hand to his heart in false offense (except it was real offense) (seriously, a carrot??).

“Why can I totally see that though?” Nino asked, amused.

“Well they don’t have carrots so you’ll have to pick something else,” Adrien sniffed.

“Egg.” 

Adrien glared at Chloe, “They don’t have an egg gummy either so-”

“Turn around pretty boy,” Marinette said in a smug voice.

He turned around to find a full dispenser of fried-egg-shaped gummies. “Damn it.”

They collected their little bags of gummies and looked around for a little while longer. The Gorilla tapped his watch and nodded towards the terminal, so the teens paid and started walking back to the terminal. They got a little lost on the way back and finally decided to take Marinette’s advice and consult a map.

When they got back to the terminal Adrien very pointedly abandoned his friends to sit next to Nathalie. 

She raised an eyebrow at his faux-insulted expression. “What happened?”

“My so-called friends decided that I am a fried-egg-shaped gummy. They all got to be pretty fruits while I am a mere pitiful egg.” He held up the bag to show her.

Nathalie looked pensive for a moment. “Yeah, you know what, I can see that.”

Adrien collapsed dramatically into her shoulder. “Betrayed! By my own mother! I can’t believe this!”

Belatedly, he realized that the other adults didn’t understand the unconventional family dynamic they had, and he may have just implied all sorts of potentially unsavory things about Nathalie. Adrien lifted his face and glanced around. There were several raised eyebrows, and his father looked thoroughly embarrassed. Audrey looked as if she were going to comment but by some miracle didn’t. Nathalie didn’t seem to care (or if she did, didn’t show it) and instead held out her palm for a handful of candy. 

“No, mine,” Adrien hissed protectively.

“I gave you the money for the gummies, I get a candy tax,” Nathalie challenged.

“That’s not how economics works,” he said before plopping some gummies in her outstretched hand.

“Thanks, kid.”

Having probably fatally bruised the reputation of the woman who raised him, Adrien padded back over to his friends.

“Done pouting?” Marinette asked, taking his arm. 

“Yup,” he smiled. They plunked down into a circle on the floor and passed around the bags of candy. After a few minutes, the pilot came out to greet them. They collected their bags and boarded. 

The plane looked how every plane Adrien had ever seen looked, but everyone else seemed to marvel at the spacious seating and comfortable amenities. Nino was visibly nervous for takeoff so Chloe decided they should all hold hands (just for funsies) (“no it’s not to comfort anyone, shut up Alya, it’s just because I want to”).

Once they reached cruising altitude Adrien turned on the big flat screen tv and signed onto Netflix. Well, he tried to sign onto Netflix, forgot the password, and asked his father for help, who also didn’t know the password, so they had to ask Nathalie for help.

“Honestly you two, it’s YOUR account, not mine.”

More of the adults gathered around the screen to watch this all unfold and eventually sat down to watch whatever movie they decided on. 

“The obvious choice is The Princess Bride,” Adrien said hopefully.

“Oh, Adrikins don’t be a basic bit- nevermind,” Chloe said, glancing around at the adults surrounding her.

“We could watch a documentary,” Nino suggested.

“The last time we watched a documentary together you cried over the baby sea turtles,” Alya reminded him gently. 

“Everyone was out to get them! It was so sad,” Nino insisted.  
“If animals make you sad I know a lovely cooking documentary,” Alya’s mom informed them. The idea was politely declined by the teenagers.

“We should watch a Christmas movie!” Marinette proposed.

“It’s spring,” Adrien and several others protested.

“But I love Christmas movies!”

“Why?” Nathalie asked, “Every plot is the same: a hard-working businesswoman is distracted from her well paying if demanding job because she falls in love with some mediocre man who’s probably a single father or something and she’s reminded to ‘have emotions’ and be ‘vulnerable’.”

Adrien snorted, “You of all people should appreciate a plot like that.”

“Why?”

“Think about it for two seconds and get back to me.”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow at his sass but then her eyes widened in realization. “Damn, you’re right,” she cursed.

“What’s going on, I’m confused,” His father admitted.

Nathalie patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well this has been fun but I have the perfect movie,” Alya said confidently. 

Everyone looked at her.

“Pride and Prejudice.”

There was a resounding yes from everyone (except his father, who rolled his eyes but agreed anyway).

They happily watched the movie, dramatically quoting at each other in every scene. The flight attendant came by frequently to offer snacks and drinks until eventually they just asked her if she wanted to sit down and watch with them, which she did. They learned that her name was Nancy and she knew a lot about historical fashion.

After the movie, they had a debate about whether the guy or the girl was right in the song “Somebody That I Used To Know” by Gotye. Then the adults went to do their own thing while the teenagers decided to watch every movie in the Tinkerbell franchise. 

They blew through nine hours of the flight like that and spent the last taking short naps with intermittent conversations that probably made no sense. 

When they arrived at the airport in Tibet a new escort led them to a car that took them straight to the hotel where the gala was being hosted. It would’ve been dinnertime back in Paris, but in Tibet it was a little past midnight. 

The hotel was an absolutely magnificent building with sleek modern architecture and gold accents, but everyone was too tired and hungry to pay it much attention. All of their rooms were on one special wing with connected balconies between them. The adults all went into their designated bedrooms while the teens all congregated in Marinette’s room. They ordered room service and ate sitting on various items of furniture. The room was large enough to comfortably host all of them and was filled with several plush chairs and ottomans, and the biggest bed Adrien had ever seen. When all the food was finished they set out their dishes and curled up on some corner of Marinette’s bed. 

“You know you all have your own rooms right?” Marinette reminded them fondly, “This isn’t an ‘and there was only one-bed’ situation.”

“Shh just let us have this,” Alya whispered at her friend, practically asleep.

“And there was only ONE bed,” Adrien murmured sleepily, sprawled across several of his friends’ laps. 

Marinette rolled her eyes but pulled the blanket over them anyway, and the five of them fell asleep in a tangle of limbs and airport-smelling clothes. So, all in all, a pleasant start to the trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in my comments said they wanted a movie night situation so I tried my best to include that in this chapter. (Also this is your friendly reminder that if you want something to happen PLEASE TELL ME!!! I will always see if there is any way I can incorporate y'all's ideas into this story.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will sprinkle in the fact that I ship Adrinino.

Adrien stared at himself in the extravagant silver framed mirror. His father was certainly taking artistic liberties with the outfits for the gala. Adrien had attended almost every Gabriel brand event in a neat black suit with minimal colors and patterns. The fitted grey suit jacket with black leather lapels and sage button down were certainly unexpected. It looked- sort of like a classier version of Chat Noir’s suit?

He didn’t mind of course, it was one of the most flattering suits Adrien had ever worn, it was just strange to have his father designing with his tastes in mind. 

There was a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Adrien called, attempting to smooth down his blonde curls. 

Nathalie padded into his hotel room carrying cosmetic supplies. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder 1950’s style black dress that hugged her hips and sharpened her lines. Matching black gloves covered her forearms and ended just above her elbows. Her hair and makeup were not done and she was wearing socks patterned with mothman. 

“What did father say about those socks?” Adrien asked as Nathalie dumped the supplies onto his unmade bed.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and scowled, “Honestly Nathalie,” she said in an excellent imitation of his father, “Have you learned nothing from working at a fashion company for the past decade?”

Adrien laughed. “I think they’re great.”

“I bought them with you in mind.”

“Awww,” he cooed, pulling Nathalie into a half hug. 

“Alright, alright,” she said pushing him back, “Don’t wrinkle your suit.”

He pouted but pulled away. Nathalie revealed a pair of gold cufflinks and fastened them on his sleeves. She gave him a critical look before smiling. 

“Do you want some help with your hair?”

“Oh yes please,” Adrien sighed in relief.

Nathalie removed her gloves and selected a few bottles from the pile.

Nathalie spritzed hir hair with something and combed it away from his face. She parted it carefully and palmed a pleasant smelling product into it. She sprayed it with hairspray before deciding it was too neat and ruffling it just a bit. 

Adrien smiled into the mirror. “Looks great.”

Nathalie held up a hand. It was covered in curly blonde hair. “You’re shedding, Kitten.”

“I can’t help it if I have lots of luxuriant gold locks.”

She smiled and went to rinse her hair-product-covered hands in the sink. 

A stressed make-up artist barged into the room. “Is Ms. Sancoeur in here?” she breathed hopefully.

Adrien nodded. “Ay yo Ma!”

Nathalie popped her head out of the bathroom, sneering in disgust. 

Adrien hid a smile and pointed at the stylist. “Makeup time!”

Nathalie rolled her eyes and walked over to the artist who sat her on the bed and unfolded a box full of an ungodly amount of makeup. 

Adrien watched as the artist worked. Nathalie’s lips and nails were painted scarlet to match her red streak. Her eyes were shadowed and lined, and some medieval torture device was applied to her lashes. Pearl earrings and a matching choker were fastened. Her hair was twisted and pinned and sprayed into a complicated bun. Nathalie was handed burgundy velvet pointed heels and a matching clutch.

The stylist scurried away. 

When the look was finished Nathalie looked like a vintage Disney villain who definitely didn’t poison her rich husband (he just fell ill under mysterious circumstances) (such a shame). 

“Wow you look fantastic!” Adrien gushed as she stood and slid her gloves back up her arms. She eyed herself carefully in the mirror.

She gave him a pleased look. “Thank you; as do you. Now we should be going to meet with the others if we don’t want to be late.”

He nodded and took her arm. They stepped out of his hotel room with the air of a mother and son who had met god and weren’t impressed. 

They walked down the hall to the empty space where all the rooms in their wing conjoined. The other parents were already waiting there, all clad in flattering formal wear and dripping with diamond jewelry. His father had certainly been generous with the clothes he had given them. 

His father was standing with the Dupain-Chengs, speaking with Tom. It was unusual to see the man with anyone taller than him. He was wearing a monochrome black suit. His eyes brightened when he spotted Nathalie and Adrien. They walked over to him.

“Adrien, you look excellent, does everything fit well?” he asked in a voice that already knew everything fit perfectly.

“Everything fits well, thank you Father,” Adrien replied formally.

“Good, good. And Nathalie you look lovely as always.”

She smiled. “Thank you Gabriel.”

Alya walked out of her room with Chloe, both doing that girl think where they chattered about each others’ dress. Adrien immediately joined because he wasn’t one to be left out. 

Alya was in a glittering dress that looked like liquid gold. It swished mesmerizingly around her ankles. The gold flecks in her eyes looked like they were glowing. Even her brown skin looked like it had been dusted with gold and bronze, though he knew it wasn’t.

“Nino is going to lose his mind,” Adrien teased. Alya’s cheeks darkened.

Chloe was in a white suit patterned with cobalt and cornflower blue designs. It looked inspired by Islamic blue-and-white mosaic tiles. The blue brought out the color of her eyes and made her loose hair more striking. The pants were slim before flaring at her ankles. Blue and silver teardrop earrings hung from her ears. Several false piercings climbed her earlobes. 

“I’ve never looked gayer,” Chloe said with a flourish. “And best of all, my mother HATES it!” 

“It’s the big dick energy for me,” Alya complimented.

“It’s the earrings for me,” Adrien said. “Also, does my dad know you’re gay or are your lesbian vibes just that immaculate?”

“I think my vibes are just that strong,” Chloe said with exaggerated nonchalance. She looked delighted.

Nino emerged from his room, looking shy. His dark hair was swept back in thick waves and a gold nose ring refracted gold light across his cheeks. Ornate tiered gold earrings hung from his ears. He was in jade colored shalwar kameez with intricate gold detailing and emerald beading. Smudged black eyeliner swept across his eyelids, narrowing to a point so sharp it could stab someone.

Alya wolf whistled and sidled up to her boyfriend. “Babe you look fantastic!” she gushed.

Chloe came up on his other side. “Fuck yeah your outfit is to die for.”

Nino flushed. “Thank you,” he mumbled sweetly.

“Move aside ladies,” Adrien said dramatically as he sauntered up to Nino. “Alya I regret to inform you that I am stealing your boyfriend.” He pulled Nino into a tight bro-style hug.

Nino laughed as he patted his back. “Oh are we in a bromance now?”

Adrien nodded and got down on one knee. “Bro…” he said in a sultry voice.

Nino- finally seeming to relax a little- dramatically clutched a hand over his heart. “Bro…”

Adrien cupped his hands as if he were holding an opened ring box. “Will you join me, in holy marti-bro-ny, as bros for life?”

“I see Adrien is joining Nino’s harem,” mused Marinette’s humored voice. Adrien stood to face the voice and gasped. 

Marinette wore a pale cherry blossom colored tulle dress, the structured bodice and fluffy skirt embroidered with pink roses and queen anne’s lace. Diamonds and rose quartz glittered at the hollow of her throat and dripped from her ears. Pearl barrets pinned back her loose black hair. 

He walked toward her. “My lady-” the nickname slipped out before he could stop himself, “-you look divine.”

Her cheeks tinged pink. “Thank you, so do you.”

He held out his arm, and she linked hers with it. They walked back to the group and the others berated her with compliments. 

“Mari you look so fantastic Adrien left me in the middle of a bro-posal,” Nino said. They all laughed at that.

“Look at how beautiful you all look,” Sabine grinned, whipping out her phone. “Squish together, let me take a picture!”

The teens wrapped their arms around each other and smiled at the camera. More parents began to join the fray, phones in hand. By the time everyone was finished Adrien was sure his jaw would fall off from all the smiling. And he was a model so he was more used to posing for pictures than most.

“You guys took forever,” he complained to Nathalie, taking her arm. 

“You cannot blame us,” his father said, “you are a striking bunch. We’re all very proud.”

Adrien looked at him. “Thank you father. You really went all out on everyone’s outfits.”

His father shrugged. “I supposed it was time to take inspiration from somewhere new. You and your friends are an inspiring and vibrant group of young people.”

Adrien smiled. “Even Nino?”

The corners of the older man’s lips twisted upward. “That boy has a surprisingly refined sense of formal wear. He was pleasant to design for.”

Adrien patted his father’s shoulder approvingly. The man looked startled but pleased. 

They started walking down to the ballroom, catching awed glances from other hotel guests wandering the halls. 

When they got to the ballroom doors his father turned around and blocked the door with an air of dramatics. “Before we enter, there is one last thing I must tell you. As this gala is being held in honor of our masked heroes who have saved Paris-” Adrien rolled his eyes, “-this event will be a masquerade themed gala. I have commissioned masks for each of you by the immensely talented Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

Marinette gave a pleased smirk and retrieved a gold plated tray from behind a large potted plant. It was covered in multicolored masks. She handed each person their corresponding masks and gasps of wonder began to break out amongst the group. When she stopped in front of Adrien she handed him a sage colored mask patterned with black swirls and lined with gold beading. He slipped it over his eyes; it fit perfectly. “These are incredible Marinette, thank you! I just can’t believe you kept it all a secret.”

“Thanks Adrien! Though honestly, you of all people should know that I am completely capable of keeping a secret,” She said, jabbing a finger lightly to his sternum. 

Adrien swallowed. “I- I suppose you’re not wrong.

Once everyone was covered by their dramatic masks his father pushed open the doors, revealing the decorated ballroom. 

Even Audrey sucked in a breath.   
Floor to ceiling gold windows lined the cream walls, pouring in shades of nectarine and rose from the fading light of sunset. Gold trim lined the floors and ceilings, and diamond chandeliers lit the space. The ceilings were really domed rose-windows, reflecting pinpricks of blue and green and violet chandelier light across the marble floors. 

Tall white columns lined the space and mahogany tables as sat between them, lined with exquisite foods and vases of white flowers. Marble fountains poured bubbling gold champagne.  
A band played on instruments made of gold and a woman in an emerald dress stood at the mic warming up her voice in an ethereal series of scales and exercises. 

Costumed staff stood poised with baskets of plastic white and gold masks. 

“Jesus Christ we have too much money,”was the first thing Adrien said. 

Everyone dissolved into laughter. 

“Guests will be arriving any moment so please, feel free to look around, get comfortable,” His father urged lightly. 

They began to wander the ballroom admiring all the details they had missed in the large space. Except for Audrey, of course, who just seemed to be sniffing around for something to complain to her husband about. Adrien silently prayed she would fall into a champagne fountain and ruin her admittedly very pretty black and white dress.

The singer on stage began to sing for real, and Adrien contemplated the existence of sirens as more guests began to pour through the doors. Most of them were other people in the industry who Adrien had known for years. He saw Madame Tsrugi but was disappointed to find out she hadn’t allowed Kagami to come. He noticed some reporters shuffle in and slinked over to the food table to grab a plate (and hide). He had just loaded his plate with grilled red snapper, risotto, and peaches stewed in brown sugar when a sweaty Nino grabbed him and pulled him to the dance floor. 

Adrien reluctantly left his food to dance with his friends. On the dance floor Marinette, Chloe, and Alya were dancing dramatically to Kimsky-Korasakov’s The Story of the Kalender Prince.

“They look like a coven of witches,” Nino whispered dryly.

Adrien grabbed his hands. “Come on, let’s be a better coven.”

The two boys started to spin around wildly, laughing giddily. The girls quickly noticed and circled around them ominously. 

“We demand entry into the dance circle,” they chanted. 

“You must first swear your lives to the sacred art of witchcraft,” Nino called as they continued to waltz dramatically. 

“Okay.”

“Yeah sure.”

“Bitch I did that years ago.”

They opened their arms and the girls joined into the dance, jumping and swaying and spinning with clasped hands. They shouted at each other over the loud music and louder conversations surrounding them. 

The music swelled and fell away like rushing tides. He felt as if each note pulled his heartstrings taut. One. By. One.

Adrien looked around at his friends. They were all flushed, with bright eyes and parted lips. Their outfits glittered like jewels under the color stained lights swinging about them. Their skin glittered gold and silver. Everything was glowing and richly colored and the masked faces around him stopped looking quite so human and started to look more akin to divinity. The conversations of the people around him melded into a single all-encompassing voice. It sounded strange and otherworldly, like an angel speaking in a long dead language. 

“I don’t feel like a person anymore,” He shouted to Nino as they swung around to Danse Macabre. 

“What do you feel like?” Nino called back, voice low and rasping. His dark eyes were hooded and his long eyelashes fluttered dramatically. 

“A diamond. On the brow of divinity.”

The other boy breathed. Adrien thought he could feel a singular heartbeat pulsing through their interconnected hands. 

“I think I know what you mean,” Nino admitted softly.

“What is this feeling?” Marinette called into their circle.

“El Dorado,” Alya suggested.

“Eden,” Chloe yelled with wet lips.

“I can’t breathe,” Adrien gasped. The five friends slowed. The gold and jewels faded. The heavenly light escaped them, and his friends looked human again. They stared at each other, silently, motionless. Only the glimmering skirts continued to sway, unaware of the stillness rooting their wearers cores to the center of the earth.

An invisible cord was snipped and the spell finally broke. They stumbled off the dance floor, breathing heavily. 

“That was the weirdest sensory overload I’ve ever had,” said Alya.

Adrien nodded. “Nothing gold can stay.”

“Are we sure it can ever truly leave either?” Marinette asked softly.

No one had an answer for her, but a faint humming in Adrien’s chest seemed to recognize the sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in a weird mood since I started taking antidepressants which is why this chapter is like that. I'll probably write a part two of the gala in Nathalie's perspective but we'll see. If there is anything you want from Nathalie's experience at the gala feel free to leave a comment.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I making this an Adrinino fic because I can? APPARENTLY YES.
> 
> gabenath shippers come get y'all's juice, I wrote this chapter for you.

Nathalie and Gabriel twirled awkwardly on the dance floor, debating if Milan was an overrated fashion hub or not. Nathalie probably would have lost had she not been way better versed in the art of arguing than he was.

His face was washed in gold light. Fragments of purple and violet reflected across their shoulders.

Neither of them were bad at dancing by any means- but Nathalie wasn’t terribly fond of dancing, and Gabriel wasn’t terribly fond of other people. 

“Can we stop dancing and just stand intimidatingly on the balcony?” Nathalie asked suddenly.

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief, “You read my mind Ms. Sancoeur.”

He took her arm and led her to the balcony. The night air slid its chilled hands across her bare shoulders. Nathalie exhaled a puff of frosted air and leaned on the carved marble railing.

Gabriel stood next to her and looked out over the mountainous view of the hotel. Craggy snow-capped peaks were silhouetted across the darkening lavender-tinged sky. White pin-pricks were beginning to pierce the sky.

“Are you enjoying the gala?” Gabriel asked lightly, probably more out of obligation than anything.

Nathalie laughed and smoothed out her dress, “I am enjoying the food. The people are less entertaining.”

“Have reporters been harassing you?”

“When are they not?”

Gabriel scoffed and balled his fists.

“Whatever you’re thinking of, stop. Do not ruin your reputation just because we both hate journalists.”

“What if I’m willing to ruin my reputation-”

“Gabriel, I swear to fucking god-”

“Yes ma’am.”

She sighed and hopped up onto the ledge, sitting daintily on the cold marble. 

Gabriel eyed her for a moment before doing the same. They watched the inside of the ballroom through the tall windowed balcony doors. Glittering figures circled the dance floor, twisting together like gears in clockwork. 

Nathalie shimmied her legs a little and reached under her skirt. She procured a small book and cracked it open, twisting her red bookmark between her gloved fingers.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and huffed a laugh, “I should have known- you find new ways to smuggle them in every time.”

“Can you blame me?” Nathalie asked, lilting her voice playfully, “Parties are just so overwhelming, the words are grounding.”

“And what have you brought to ease this endeavor?”

“Homer’s Odyssey.”

“You would like the classics.” He mused thoughtfully.

“Not all classics,” Nathalie corrected. “I hate stuffy Puritan literature.”

“That’s because they had a strict sense of morality.”

She glared at him. “Are you saying something about my moral compass?”

He smiled down at her, “Nothing I wouldn’t say about my own.”

She rolled her eyes before directing her focus to her book. She felt Gabriel lean in to read over her shoulder. Nathalie scooted closer and held the book between them. He read slower than she did, so she waited for him to look up at her before turning the page. 

They devoured a couple chapters silently in the swelling and fading silver moonlight. The sharp cries of violin music were dulled by the thick panes of glass and heavy wood doors. She let her head relax against Gabriel’s shoulder. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

They only looked up when the music inside the ballroom rose dramatically, sharp and clear as diamonds. The song was sweet but melancholy, and everyone had partnered up to slow dance. The people twining across the tiled floor were lit up pale gold, looking like porcelain dolls brushed with mercury and gold dust. At the center of them, Adrien and Nino were spinning together, wound around each other desperately. Their faces were so close.

“Those designs look nice together,” Gabriel murmured thoughtfully, “Though it was not the pairing I had anticipated to see this evening.”

“Yes,” Nathalie agreed, “They make excellent dance partners.”

“They look like very good friends-”

She snorted. “Like how we’re very good friends,” she muttered.

“-I’m sure they will have a close friendship for a very long time,” he continued.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Gabriel gave her a confused glance. “What?”

“You’re being intentionally obtuse.”

“You overestimate me, my dear, I am just obtuse in general.”

She shook her head in fond exasperation. “I think they’re a little more than friends, Gabriel.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked innocently.”

Nathalie scoffed. “I will bet you twenty dollars the second that dance is going to end they are going to stare at each other in confusion before awkwardly bolting in opposite directions to combat their abruptly realized feelings. Then Adrien is going to come out here and pace feverishly while asking for advice.”

Gabriel gave her a puzzled look. “That is incredibly specific,` but I’ll take that bet.”

The music softened. The dancers stilled. Adrien and Nino looked at each other for a long unbearable moment before stammering what Nathalie assumed were excuses and detangling from each others’ arms. Adrien made a beeline for the drink table before noticing her and his father through a window and speeding toward them. 

“I think I am about to lose twenty dollars,” Gabriel whispered into her hair.

“I agree,” Nathalie said, hiding a smile.

Adrien pushed through the doors, a dire expression on his face. “Is it possible to have a crush on two people at once?” he inquired as soon as he was on the balcony. The back of his blonde hair was incurably ruffled. Her fingers itched to smooth it down.

Nathalie did her best to look surprised at the question. “Yes, Adrien, that can certainly happen. Why do you ask?”

The teen shook his head dismissively. “Okay, so, what would you do if you had a big crush on this one person cause they were amazing and kind and very pretty. And you really love them. And you know that you should love them and you would be happy with them. But then this other person comes along, and you really care about them. And you love them, but you think it’s as a friend. And then this thing happens, and you realized it might not just be as a friend. What do you do?” The moment words stopped tumbling out of his mouth, Adrien began pacing, biting the nail on his thumb.

“Adrien,” Gabriel began hesitantly- holding out a hand for his son. Adrien looked at him critically before letting his father guide him to the edge of the balcony. The boy took a seat on the ledge with them. 

“Understanding the difference between love and friendship can be a difficult task, no matter your age or experience. You can love a friend immensely and have no romantic inclinations toward them. At the same time, you can think you love someone romantically and realize that you simply cherish your partnership. Romance does not mean that you love someone deeper than you would with a purely platonic relationship.

You may truly love this first person, to an intensity you had never previously experienced before. But if you are pursuing this person solely because society has taught you that the natural outcome is to enter into a romantic relationship- I urge you to ignore that thought process. You can love them and just be friends. Dating or romance is not your obligation, nor theirs, just because that is what society has taught you.

It may be the same case for the second person, where you love them, but should not pursue a romantic relationship unless you feel it would make you truly happy. But if it has influenced you so deeply that you are questioning your feelings for the first person, I believe you should give yourself time to think about it and talk with that person. If you feel that you want to enter a romantic partnership because it would make the two of you happy, listen to those feelings. Allow your heart to guide you.”

Both Nathalie and Adrien blinked at the sincere advice. It was the most openly she had heard Gabriel talk about emotions probably ever. 

Adrien wrung his hands and nodded. He let his head fall against his father’s shoulder.

“What if I figure out my feelings, and the outcome isn’t what I had pictured for myself?”

Nathalie stood and walked over to him, her protectiveness kicking in at the sound of the uncertainty in Adrien’s voice. She pulled the boy into a hug. He readily returned it.

“Then you do whatever makes you happy, my kitten.” she murmured against his forehead, “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to or if you’re not ready to. But, if your heart knows what it wants, never let fear keep you from happiness. You deserve the world, little one. Let yourself be happy, even if it isn’t how you’d pictured it.”

Adrien nodded and buried his face into her shoulder. Gabriel rubbed the boy’s back. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, before Adrien lifted a determined head, detangled himself from them, and strode back to the ballroom.

He turned back to them before going inside. “Thank you both for the advice- it was really good,” he said sweetly, “I love you guys.” He turned. The door clicked shut.

Nathalie smiled before nudging Gabriel’s side. “You gave him some excellent advice there Mr. Agreste.”

“Thank you, Ms. Sancoeur, as did you.

“Why, thank you. Now, hand over the money, darling,” Nathalie said, holding out a hand. “You lost that bet.”

Gabriel reached for his wallet and pulled out a bill. He slipped it into her hand before tugging her closer. “When it’s you, Nathalie-” he placed a quick peck on her cheek, “-I don’t mind losing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I proofread this? No.
> 
> Do I have a plan? Also no.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start happening (finally). Adrien is dumb. Gabriel is a dramatic bitch and I love it. The logistics of sexy firemen are contemplated.

Alya’s voice was pleased and breathless calling him from her bedroom. A heavy baseline thrummed through the floor, and muffled singing rang out. Adrien smiled with only a touch of hesitation before slipping through the door. Inside her room there was a karaoke machine set up, flashing various colors. Marinette and Nino were bouncing around singing loudly to Marina and the Diamonds. Chloe and Alya were singing along and jumping on the giant bed. Their hair was messy and stiff with old hairspray. The radiance of the evening had rubbed away and now everyone’s outfits were ruffled and everyone’s makeup smudged. 

Chloe shucked off her suit jacket and tossed it at him, hitting Adrien square in the face. 

“Where the hell have you been Agreste? Alya convinced the staff to drag this thing up to her room and it’s been amazing!” Chloe pulled her hair tie out as she scolded him, letting her long cornsilk hair fall in a shining sheet to her waist.

“How is your hair always the prettiest thing in existence?” Alya asked, pushing the other girls’ shoulder.

“I’m magic Cesaire, you should know this by now.”

Alya gave an exasperated huff and pounced on Chloe, pinning her to the mattress. Adrien climbed up with them and poked Chloe’s sides until she was shrieking with laughter. 

“Mercy, give me mercy!” She simpered. 

Marinette and Nino pulled Adrien and Alya from Chloe. 

Play nice, Marinette scolded, wagging a finger. Adrien nipped at it. Alya made a guttural growl at her. 

Marinette shuddered at the sound. 

“Ha. bottom.” Chloe teased. 

“Takes one to know one,” Marinette retorted smugly.

The blonde girl snarled. 

“Girls. Amirite?” Nino said to him with a shrug. 

“I don’t know man,” Adrien mused, “I think I get it.”

Nino sighed despairingly. Adrien gave a pretty-boy smile. 

Alya whisted, “Don’t smile like that, I haven’t put on my sunglasses.   
Adrien smiled wider. Alya hissed and buried her face in Marinette’s lap. Marinette stroked the other girl’s hair apologetically. 

“How were your parents?” Marinette asked.

“Oh they were great, my dad gave me advice and then I thought I was gonna go back and hang out with you guys and then I ended up going back and talking to Nathalie about classical literature.”

“That’s why you weren’t hanging out with us?” Chloe said in disbelief, “You were talking about english teacher shit?”

“Look, Nathalie was my teacher for like a decade so she’s kind of a nerd, and I love her for it.”

“Okay well while you were busy being a nerd, we studied the blade,” Alya informed him, twisting until her torso was sprawled across Marinette’s lap and her head was settled in Nino’s.

“Good to know,” Adrien said dryly, sounding embarrassingly similar to Nathalie. 

“Anyway,” Chloe said, running her fingers through her hair, “We were planning on watching a trashy rom-com and ordering a ton of room service. You in?”

“Duh,” Adrien replied hopping beside her. 

Nino untangled himself from Alya and Marinette and dimmed the lights with some fancy swiveling dial attached to the wall. The faint light that did glow was tinted a soft magenta. 

Marinette practiced some of the Chinese he taught her by ordering tons of room service all in Mandarin, and Chloe stabbed some buttons of the remote until the movie started. The plot was ridiculously predictable, two hot guys fighting over one hot girl that the writers were desperately trying to pretend was somehow less hot with glasses on. The girl gets a makeover and the minutely less douchey of the two guys takes her to homecoming.

“Here’s an idea,” Adrien proposed, munching on some fried candied orange peels dipped in chocolate which somehow managed to taste like none of those flavors, “Why don’t they just all date each other. Instead of acting all dumb and confused about which person they wanted to date, they just traded the love triangle for polyamory and then everyone’s happy.”

The room went silent for a long moment. He felt everyone’s eyes on him. 

“That’s a good idea sunshine,” Chloe relented finally, “if only that pretty blonde one wasn’t too oblivious to apply that plan.” 

“Exactly,” Adrien cried, gesturing at the paused TV. Nino managed to look both amused and like he wanted to shoot himself in the foot.

Adrien felt a twinge in the back of his mind, something that felt almost like the recognition of an idea. The movie was played, and the feeling slipped away. Adrien gave a confused little head shake. He was ninety-five percent sure Alya was laughing at him into the bed covers, but he wasn’t sure why.

They all fell asleep by the ending of the movie, Adrien sandwiched right in the middle of all his friends. In between dozing, he would see them all lying together, warm and washed in pale light, and wished that nothing would change. 

When they woke up it sounded like there was arguing happening in the main room. Adrien and Nino were the last to wake up, so they looked toward the sound and crept out the door together. Adrien belatedly noticed Nino’s bedhead was adorable, and his looked like that of a blonde yeti that had never seen a hairbrush, but remained focused on the picture before him. Most of the adults were in the main room attached to all their bedrooms, some eating breakfast at the large dining table, some lounging on the couch, all staring at his parents.

“Honestly Nathalie,” his father was saying, “You can’t just wear orange and red flannel pants with a cherry-patterned button-down, you look like two half-formed bowling alley carpets threw up on you.”

Nathalie rolled her eyes. “They’re pajamas dear, they’re not meant to look good they’re meant to be comfy.”

Adrien vaguely wondered how his father would feel about him sleeping in his rumpled, undone, suit from the gala, but decided that mental image was scarier than Hawkmoth ever was, and decided to get a cup of coffee before entertaining the idea again.

“But other people are seeing you like this, how will your dignity survive?”

“We’re surrounded by Adrien’s friends and their parents, I trust them with my dignity. It’s not as if anyone else is seeing me in this.”

His father looked horrified. “But someone could!” he told her indignantly.

Nathalie rose an eyebrow. It really was her best facial expression, she executed it very elegantly. “Oh really, like whom?”

His father pondered for a moment. “What if the building catches on fire, and you have to be saved by the sexiest fireman you’ve ever seen. How would you feel if he saw you in those pajamas?”

Nathalie gave him a bewildered look. “I would feel concerned that the fireman is not wearing the standard gas mask and goggles utilized in burning environments that would obscure any perception of his physical attractiveness. Secondly, I would say that I love someone else so I don’t care what he thinks of me, and thirdly I’d say ‘if you have enough time to pay attention to my appearance you also have enough time to save other people from DYING’.”

Adrien supped his cream and sugared coffee and watched on in entertainment. Nino was buttering toast beside him and hiding his snickering in fake coughs.

“Well then the beautiful fireman would take that extra time to save me, and then fall in love with me instead of you because I look radiant in matching pajamas. How would you feel about that?” His father asked.

“I’d feel fine because the sexy fireman would inevitably leave you for me because I wouldn’t criticize his pajama choices.” Nathalie retorted mercilessly.

His father was rendered speechless with lack of comeback. 

“Point: Nathalie.” Adrien boomed in an announcer voice, cupping his hands like a megaphone around his mouth.

Several people snickered. 

His father glared at him, “Whose side are you on?”

“Nathalie’s. Obviously.” 

“I should have expected that,” his father grumbled, and went to get another coffee in defeat.

“I think you’re right Gabriel,” Audrey told him haughtily, “However those were bold words from someone whose pajamas are the color of a wet cardboard box, and the only interesting thing about them is how absurdly expensive they are. Even the quality is barely on the upper-side of mediocre”

Alya laughed so hard she bent over, and Marinette had to hold the girl’s plate of eggs.

Chloe looked almost proud of her mother, which was a first. 

His father didn’t argue, it’s hard to argue with a woman in a sleep gown that had glittering gold lace and a black tulle robe lined with glossy black fur. 

Even Adrien couldn’t find a retort, and he hated that lady.

When breakfast was eaten and everyone was dressed, all his friends’ parents packed up and they headed to the lobby to say goodbyes. It was a good plan, none of the other parents could stay longer than the weekend, they all had kids or jobs that needed attention. So when they left it would just be his friends and his parents left to tackle the guardian problem. And they had the whole rest of the week. As he said goodbye to the other parents, Adrien felt almost confident. 

Then they were alone, seven miraculous wielders, condemned by a dead woman, and he felt his confidence waiver. 

His nerves seemed well-matched considering the grim expressions around him.

“Alright,” Marinette said, lifting her chin and sharpening her gaze with resolution. “Nathalie and I have organized our game plan for today. Come with me.”

The troop followed silently as the pigtailed girl led them to a silent garden outside the hotel. Roses bloomed crimson and cream in thick bushes, and tall cypress and fir trees speared the sky. She brought them to a secluded pocket within the garden. They took seats on benches lining a solitary white gazebo. Vines of dark leaves and fat purple flowers dripped from hanging pots, shading them from sun and view. 

Marinette retrieved a black duffel bag tucked under the seats. Nathalie did the same. 

Adrien glanced around, no one else seemed to have any clue what was going on. 

Nathalie pulled several large backpacks from the bags. She turned her cerulean eyes to the group and spoke with plain conviction. 

“Today we will be hiking to the abandoned Tibetan village where the guardians supposedly stole children. We will take a bus that takes us as far up the mountain as we can, but vehicular transportation only goes so far. After that, we will take a hiking trail until we reach the place where Gabriel, Emilie, and I originally broke off to find the miraculouses. Marinette and I will try our best to guide you all up the fastest and safest route, based on information from the grimoire and a map I made the first time. We should get there by sundown, and we’ll camp in the remains before heading up to the temple in the morning. If we do this correctly no one will know we’re going to the temple, and we’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon.”

Adrien nodded.

“In these backpacks, I’ve brought us all food, appropriate hiking gear, warm clothes, tents, sleeping bags, and basic pocket knives. Don’t set these down for a second until we reach the village ruins.”

Marinette took over from there. “You will all be wearing your miraculouses for the entire trip. When we arrive at the temple we will transform, but attempt to enter peacefully. Once we enter we will assess the situation. If we deem the temple a safe and responsible environment to leave the miraculouses, we will surrender the miracle box. If not we will transform and relieve them of their miraculouses, and ensure civilian safety.”

There was a small choir of agreements. 

Nathalie and Marinette shared a determined look and they returned to the hotel lobby. His father waved down a sleek black taxi and Nathalie gave the driver an address. The drive was short, steeped in a solemn unspectacular silence. Even the anticipation before battle Adrien was used to was absent. It was like sitting inside a seashell, smooth and white as cream, nothing but the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears. 

The glittering glass and smoke-stained skies slipped away as the city grew sparse, surrendering to unrelenting grey rock and tree-lined mountains. The car stopped at a small stone building. Through the windows he could see cheap souvenirs and greasy laminated maps being sold. Tables and benches were scattered across a covered wood porch, where people sat eating bowls of noodles and plates of dumplings. A sign above the door roughly translated to “Grandma’s Shop”. A parking lot full of painted buses depicting mountain and woodland scenes held several drivers, who herded people into their buses and drove up a road carved in the side of the mountain. 

They spilled out of the car and retrieved their packs from the trunk. The air smelled of hot cooking oil and pine trees. Nathalie brought them all inside, and ordered lunch. They ate their spicy noodles at a long table on the porch, while they went two at a time to the bathroom stalls to change into the warm hiking clothes that were tucked at the top of their backpacks. 

The clothes were dark and sturdy, close cut and flexible. It felt almost like the material of the miraculous costumes. Adrien layered his slim wool jackets and waterproof parka, and laced up a pair of hiking boots. Everything was light and allowed for a wide range of motion, but it kept in heat beautifully, and Adrien felt surprisingly wall protected. He had no doubt his father designed the outfits, and Nathalie likely had some say in the designing and production of the materials. And Marinette was the one who remembered to include pockets. 

Once everyone was fed and dressed they boarded on of the busses. Several audio tours were available in different languages, but Adrien ignored the little devices in favor of looking out the window. For all he loved the city, the wooded mountainside felt like a merciful reprieve. No matter how famous or talented or powerful you were in society, the moment you are unwound from it you become nothing more than a single human soul. Or more likely: you always were, nature was just a reminder. The prospect was terrifying but exhilarating. 

For hours they rode up, engaged in occasional conversation, stopping at various campsites and rest stops and hiking trails. In the last stretch of hours they were the only passengers left on the bus. The final stop was at a mountainside teahouse and inn. Nathalie motioned for them all to go inside, and they obeyed. The bus and its driver returned down the narrow stretch of asphalt.   
Nathalie reserved a couple of rooms for an indefinite amount of time, and asked not to be disturbed nor expected. The old lady who ran the in nodded, and led them to their rooms. Nathalie thanked her, but did not take of her backpack. Instead, when the old lady was gone she opened a window. 

She and Marinette shared another cryptic look before Marinette transformed and slipped through the window, landing cheerfully on the hard dirt below, crushing a few blades of the sparse grass. Nathalie followed suit, and they all did the same. 

“Can we hike to the village transformed?” Carapace asked when he landed, bouncing lightly, savoring the ease of superstrength. 

“You can,” Marinette answered, “But Nathalie can’t, not after having used a damaged miraculous. Even with it fixed, excessive use seems to make her sick, so we’d have to keep the same pace with an untransformed person anyway.”

Nathalie looked surprised for a moment before looking toward his father. “You ratted me out didn’t you.”

He shrugged. “In my defense, I was only listing symptoms to help Marinette create your treatment plan.”

Nathalie pursed her lips but said nothing. 

Carapace detransformed. “Oh well, I could use some non-magic exercise anyway.”

Adrien was sure Nino was just saying that to keep Nathalie from feeling guilty, but didn’t bring it up. 

They continued on foot, following Marinette and Nathalie up a narrow dirt path, worn smooth by the feet of something too slim to be human. Animal prints lined the tangles of roots and mud beside the path, though Adrien didn’t recognize the tracks.

The trees were tall and slim, black bark haboring thick shelves of brown mushrooms. The soil turned from a hard ash brown to a moist loamy carpet of pine needles and dead leaves which didn’t seem to grow on any of the plants around them. 

There were berry bushes that smelled like cotton candy and his mother’s favorite perfume. 

Adrien began to sweat despite the cold. 

The air didn’t thin, but it seemed to breathe, one moment full and warm, the next moment blown out into a weak blistering vacuum. 

Snow began to fall. Adrien wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He grabbed the hand of the person in front and behind him. He couldn’t exactly make out who it was, their faces seemed bright and featurless, their colors unfamiliar to him. 

They couldn’t have been walking long. The sun hadn’t begun to set yet, though its light grew fainter. Someone was rasping as they tried to breathe. Another giggled, holding a fistful of purple flowers that smelled like moonlight and the reflection of stars on wet asphalt. Adrien wanted to giggle too but the air was weak in his lungs. He wanted to take off his backpack. It was starting to hurt his shoulders. He wanted to lie down on the soft dirt and smell more of the flowers. He wanted to taste those berries that smelled so sweet. His grip loosened to the hands he was holding.

It grew harder to breathe

“We’re almost there,” said a voice. It sounded stern and determined like a splash of cold water. Adrien tightened his grip and spat out a bitter taste that had been pooling in his mouth. 

Crumbling stone passed underfoot. A strange fountain sat at the center of a grove of trees, studded with fuzzy green fruits. It didn’t run, but was filled with old stagnant water, and some of those fruits that had shrivled up. He saw cracked stone buildings and old roads. Adrien sped up.

He passed through the grove of trees and a clean soft scent filled his lungs. Adrien watched as a film seemed to clear from in front of his eyes, and collapsed in front of the fountain, sucking in air he hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long, I started it then had to go to a psych hospital and it fucking THREW OFF MY GROOVE.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys get to meet my favorite character.

The effects had felt worse the second time around. Nathalie hoped it wasn’t an age thing.

Her head throbbed but she managed to lift it from the uneven rock it was resting on to look around. 

The children were all there, splayed across the cold ground. Most of them were holding hands. Gabriel was on his feet, clutching the wide lip of the fountain. Nooro floated in dizzy loops beside him. 

When he realized she was awake Gabriel awkwardly dropped to his knees beside her. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, helping her to prop herself up on her elbows.

She let out a wry laugh. “It was just as terrible as I remember.”

Gabriel gave a small rasping chuckle and they pulled themselves up, clinging to each other tightly. He returned a hand to the fountain to help support their stance.

“Should we have told the kids about the effects of the mountain?”

Nathalie shook her head. “There’s nothing they could have done anyway. They would’ve just been paranoid about the symptoms, and then they’d be more susceptible.”

He thought for a moment. “True enough. Shall we try to set up camp?”

“Sure, just give me a moment,” Nathalie said, letting the feeling return to her limbs. She was cold, and Gabriel was much warmer than the stone had been. She resisted the urge to nuzzle closer. Damned mind. 

Duusu slipped out from under her shirt and gave Nathalie a knowing look before doing lazy twirls in the frigid air. Nathalie tried to focus on that instead of how comfortable it was to be held by her boss.

“Alright, let’s get to work.”

They released each other and carried the kids one-by-one into a stone building that still has a structurally sound roof. For a crumbling village from several centuries past, it was in relatively good shape.

Gabriel hung a rain guard over gaps in the roof, where delicate snow was beginning to drift in, and Nathalie put all the unconscious teenagers in their sleeping bags. 

When their shelter was reasonably weather-proof they set up the portable stove and began cooking the dried packets of noodles. Nathalie thought it looked like some sort of stroganoff. Gabriel said he thought it was alfredo. The dried meat rehydrated in nondescript chunks, and the sauce thickened into a chunky off-white color. The packet gave them no clarification.

“If I weren’t so hungry I’d be disgusted,” Nathalie said as her stomach growled loudly. 

Gabriel agreed fully as he dished out two bowls.

Nathalie hardly tasted the food as she ate, she just savored the warm fullness in her stomach. 

Chloe woke up when they were half finished with their meal.

“Ugh what the hell was that?” the girl complained as she struggled to pulled herself up.

“The temple and village have magic defenses to shroud them from visitors. It was important you didn’t know before because paranoia and suspicion make it worse,” Nathalie answered plainly. 

Chloe sneered. “You still should have told us.”

Nathalie filled another bowl with noodle slop, “If you give in to the magic you pass out and plants from the mountain steal your possessions and tear you limb from limb. We were trying our best to prevent that.”

Chloe took the bowl in silent concession. “This looks gross.”

“It is,” Gabriel assured her.

Nathalie whacked him lightly on the shoulder. 

“But it’s all we have so eat it anyway,” he added, giving Nathalie a humored look.

The other kids woke up one by one, receiving the same explanation and bowl of hot food. The effects of the magic were clearly still lumbering heavily in their minds as no one put up much of an argument to either.

Much to Nathalie’s disappointment, Adrien was the last to wake up. 

When he did he looked around dumbly, limp yellow hair falling into his face.

“Natty?”

“Yes little one?”

“Was I drugged or did you feel that too?”

Nathalie let out a tiny laugh, despite herself. “I felt it too kitten don’t worry.”

“Don’t do drugs kids,” he mumbled to no one in particular, accepting a bowl of mystery noodle soup.

Nathalie kissed his temple as the boy began to eat, slowly waking up properly. 

Once everyone had eaten and dressed in fresh clothes they packed up their makeshift camp and continued the hike up the mountain. The village was not large, and they walked through its crumbling streets in a little over an hour. They found no remains, human or otherwise. 

Stone pittered off into craggy mountain walls and thick caps of snow, shiny and pristine white as icing. Nathalie felt almost guilty marring it with her heavy footsteps. A snow-crusted but relatively clear path snaked right from the village to the temple like a great chalky tongue.

Nathalie traced its path with a faint nostalgia.

The last time she had walked this path Emilie had been alive. The thought was enough to drown her in a sullen silence. Gabriel, who was likely thinking the same thing, took her gloved hand in his. She gave him a faint smile.

The snow grew thicker on either side of the path, but their route remained covered by only a thin crystalline glaze. Still, Nathalie was grateful for the sharp cleats at the bottom of her hiking boots.

The wind grew harsher. The sky darkened despite it being barely midday.

As the hours of trodding mulishly forward passed Nathalie felt the cold bleed numbingly beneath her clothes and her face grow wind-chapped. She loathed to imagine what it would be like at night. 

She walked a little faster.

When she had seen the temple all those years ago it had been leveled to the ground, just a cracked mosaic floor that was half washed away with mud and snow.

When it rose up from behind the peaks they were winding around, Nathalie’s jaw dropped.

It was an imposing smoky grey structure, built on huge carved columns that had diameters larger than the entire Agreste mansion. It rose into the sky like a mountain peak itself. Huge balconies and open walkways lined the structure, glowing a soft white. Stained glass windows depicting snowy mountain scenes lined every tower. Icy waterfalls spilled from huge stone serpents that were carved into the structure, seemingly constricting it. Every surface was etched with scenes of bold heroes battling demons and monsters. White and silver paper lanterns levitated about the temple, big as houses, spilling light onto the mountainside. Shadows inside them looked as though there were people walking within the lanterns. 

“Holy shit,” Marinette said from behind her.

The teens began chattering excitedly. Despite their suspicions, it was still an incredible sight to behold.

Nathalie looked at Gabriel. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, still managing to sound grave. 

“I’d seen the pictures on the news, but it hardly looks like them at all,” Nathalie replied.

“The magic from the mountain probably shrouded most of this from the cameras.”

Something floated toward them. As it neared Nathalie realized it was a lotus bud made of glass, with petals tightly wound together. When it reached the small party its petals peeled open, revealing the center of the bloom was a small cluster of glowing white crystals. It bobbed and led them forward, adjusting to their pace. It lit the path they had already been following so they continued behind it without complaint. 

As they neared the temple Marinette instructed them all to transform. Nathalie complied with some relief. The miraculous suits protected against low temperatures, and she was growing nervous about their open positions. 

The glass lotus stopped when they reached the temple before shooting up onto a balcony hundreds of feet above their heads. There didn’t seem to be any other entrances. Just when they were getting ready to scramble up with a miraculous enhanced jump, when a large stone snake turned its marble head toward them, drenching them in the frigid water that was spilling from its mouth. Nathalie felt a sharp pain in her chest beneath her miraculous. The others all seemed fine. When they were thoroughly soaked and half-frozen the snake closed its mouth and lowered its head, scooping the wet shivering miraculous wielders from the ground and depositing them on the temple balcony.

“Fuck.” Mayura spat, and they all agreed wholeheartedly.

“Welcome,” Greeted a smooth voice. 

A tall man strode in front of them, clad in a neat white silk robe. A hood shielded his face, but a pair of lovely hands were clasped at his chest, pale as marble and long-fingered, with distinct tendons and neat nails. 

Nathalie stepped away from him without thinking, her gut pulling her away like a puppet on strings. 

“Thank you,” Hawkmoth greeted cordially. “Are you a guardian of the miraculous?”

“I am indeed,” the man said, revealing an even white smile. 

“We are in possession of a miracle box from this place. We come with another guardian who wishes to return it here and learn about your customs.”

No one had motioned to Marinette in any way. The miracle box was tucked in Nino’s backpack (for fear Marinette would drop it). Still, the man seemed to look straight at her.

Nathalie put a protective hand on the girl’s small shoulder.

“I can see you have a wise and strong young guardian leading you,” the man complimented easily. “Please come in.”

The man led them down hallways lit by white crystals in silver platters lining the walls. Nathalie quickly grew lost in the internal map she was trying to piece together. They stopped in front of a small chamber with a half-drawn silk curtain. A boy who looked no older than five sat in the room, playing with painted rocks and shells. 

“Jiho,” the man called. 

The boy scrambled to his feet and emerged into the light of the hallway. He was short, with fluffy black hair and charcoal eyes, and fat rosy cheeks. His sleeves were too long for him. He had no shoes.

“This is Jiho,” The hooded guardian introduced. “He will help you get settled.”

Jiho nodded and the man disappeared down the hall.

Jiho barely looked at them, just confidently lead them down more winding hallways, pattering his little feet as quick as he could. Nathalie had to resist the urge to just pick him up and put him on her hip and have him point the direction they needed to go.

“This way is the bathrooms,” Jiho explained as the halls grew warm and slick with damp. “All newcomers must be cleansed by the snakes and then bathed before they can enter the rest of the temple.”

They entered a large round room, its walls carved with whales and sea monsters, its ceiling the domed underside of a giant clamshell, a pearl glowing creamy light at its center. 

Jiho pointed a chubby finger at two doorways. “This is for boys, and this one is for girls. You can’t trade.” He said it very seriously, as if he were relaying imperative information. 

“I will bring everyone new clothes. The old ones must be burned.”

“What, why?” Nino asked.

“You smell,” Jiho explained. 

Sure they were a little sweaty and muddy, but Nathalie was almost sure it wasn’t so bad as to warrant clothes burning. 

Jiho seemed to notice their confused faces and scrunched his wide little nose. “The smell of the outside upsets the guardians.”

“Oh of course,” Nathalie said agreeably, “but how about we just leave the old clothes here, and then pick them up again when we leave? Is that okay Jiho?”

Jiho blinked. “You can leave?”

Nathalie was ready to scoop this kid up and get the fuck out of there, greater good be damned.

“That’s our plan for right now. So can we try that?”

Jiho thought for a moment, rubbing his chin as if he were stroking a long age-wizened beard. “I suppose, but you have to hide them,” he conceded.

“Thank you Jiho,” Adrien said, holding out his hand for a fist bump. Jiho flinched.

“Oh, you don’t know how to do a fist bump little man?” Nino asked.

Jiho shook his head

Nino and Adrien immediately crouched down to teach him. 

Marinette and Alya were whispering something. 

“I don’t like this, Marinette whispered into Nathalie’s ear. I’m getting the miracle box out of Nino’s bag and keeping it with me.”

“Good idea,” Nathalie responded. 

Gabriel seemed to be scouring the room for anything suspicious. Everything he was inspecting appeared to be jars of gloopy soap and pumice stones. 

“This place seems fine, and I can’t detect any malignant emotions from anyone nearby,” he murmured. “That kid seems to be the only one in this wing. There are others farther away, but he’s the youngest.”

“He must be one of the children the Guardians stole,” she whispered back.

They both looked back to Jiho, who had grown hugely proficient at the concept of fist-bumping. 

The little boy looked back up at them and seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing. 

“No more fist-bumps. It’s bath time now,” he said, pushing Adrien by the legs toward the boy’s bathroom.

“Got it, buddy,” he said, grabbing a towel and heading in. Nathalie saw several pools that flowed into each other through small waterfalls. Billowing steam lifted from the water, fragrant with a pleasant herbal scent. 

Suddenly her cold flesh and aching muscles made her suspicions quiet a little.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” she said, releasing Gabriel.

“Of course,” he assured, following Adrien and Nino into their room and closing the door.

She, Marinette, Chloe, and Alya quickly selected towels and entered their designated room. The pools were tiled with glimmering aquamarine and mother-of-pearl mosaics, the water steamy and covered in a sweet-smelling foam. Several spigots pumped fresh water and a slick herbal mixture into the giant tubs.

Alya was the first to disrobe and hop in, seemingly favoring not freezing to death in damp clothes over modesty. Chloe seemed to turn several shades of pink before following. Marinette awkwardly tried to disrobe behind a towel before ultimately giving up and hopping in, sighing in relief at the touch of the warm water. In no time the girls were rubbing globs of soap in each others’ hair and splashing water. 

Nathalie was far more uncomfortable, slinking over to a separate elevated pool and undressing crouched behind it. 

The girls were completely distracted but Nathalie still slipped in the water as silently as possible, sighing softly as the warmth eased the tension in her muscles.

When she was standing the water reached her collarbones, but when she sat at the bench that ran around the sides it reached her ears.

Nathalie savored the feeling for a few minutes before undoing her hair and submerging her head. It floated like a pitch-black cloud around her face, shot through with crimson. Nathalie almost wanted to stay down there, her sound and sight muffled, her body warm and strong in the water.

When at last she had to breathe she came back up reluctantly, quietly gulping the scented air. The teenagers had calmed and were talking softly, brushing through each others’ hair with combs that were set on displays all over the room, made of a material Nathalie was almost sure was bone.

Nathalie found a half shell full of creamy soap and cleaned every inch of herself, savoring the bitter floral scent. There was a silver pitcher painted with women pouring it into their hair and wearing flower wreaths, so she scooped some of the oily liquid into her hand and massaged it into her hair. Her hair grew soft and slick, and she brushed through it easily with one of the carved bone combs. 

As Nathalie worked through her hair Jiho pattered in, holding an armload of clothes. 

“This is for you,” he said as he set a folded set at the side of the pool by each girl. 

When he got to Nathalie he looked at her for a moment, eyes growing almost misty. “The last time I saw a grown up lady it was my mother.”

Nathalie stared.

The boy turned to leave.

“Jiho wait,” Nathalie called. The boy turned back to her. Nathalie dried her hands before reaching out and rolling up Jiho’s too-long sleeves. 

“Lift one foot up.” He did. Nathalie rolled up his pant leg.

“Now the other one.” She rolled up that one.

“Now you won’t trip.”

The boy gave her a goofy little smile.“Thank you.” 

He skipped out of the room.

“Nathalie, you can’t adopt every child with dysfunctional parental situations,” Marinette said when Jiho was gone.

“Speak for yourself,” Chloe sneered, “I call being adopted next!”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “You want to be adopted by a woman with no vast fortune who would have a body count of the entirety of Paris if Ladybug didn’t have her miraculous cure?”

“Fuck yeah,” she said, pumping a fist in the air. 

“Then come here, Marinette made your french braid lopsided.”

Chloe clambered into Nathalie’s pool and sat still as she redid her hair, weaving white flowers she found in a vase into the plait. 

“Oooh fix mine next!” Alya called and Marinette quickly followed.

Alya’s hair was braided into two little space buns and pinned into place with silver combs Nathalie retrieved from a dish by one of the pools. 

Marinette’s hair was wrapped into a braided bun that looked like a rose. Nathalie tied shiny pink ribbons into it that were included in Marinette’s new clothes. 

Nathalie left her hair down, not trusting any of the girls to make it, and without her usual mirror. 

With each girl’s hair done up, they got out of the lovely pools and dried off, dressing in their new silk clothes. 

They were given simple undergarments, long tunics, and loose pants. Thick wool shawls lay folded by the door, each patterned with a simple geometric emblem. Nothing fit quite right, but the sizing was accurate enough.

Simple woven sandals were provided.

Jiho hadn’t worn shoes.

When they returned to the center room the boys were already there, toweling off hair and talking casually. Jiho was there standing against the wall, saying nothing.

“Wow Natty, I always forget how pretty and long your hair is until you keep it down,” Adrien said.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile, touching her forehead to his before leaving him to dote on the girls and their beautifully done hair.

“Was that nice?” Gabriel asked with a knowing smile.

“Oh, heavenly,” Nathalie admitted, “They practically bought my loyalty already by making baths like that.”

“Me too,” he confessed, “I can’t believe I spent so much money building a secret layer when I could’ve spent it on luxurious bathrooms.”

Nathalie laughed. “Next time.”

“Oh definitely. I might release a line of bathrobes or something to fund it.”

“That’ll be quite the headache for Marketing.”

“To hell with marketing, I’m inspired.”

Nathalie giggled. She felt something tug on the hem of her tunic.

Jiho had her in his little fist. He looked close to tears.

“Can you roll up my pant again? It fell down.”

“Of course,” Nathalie said sweetly, kneeling down to fix it.

“I’ll be really careful not to let it roll down when you go to see the guardians, cause then I’ll never have anyone to roll it up again,” he promised.

Nathalie finished and blinked at him.

“W-”

“I will show you to your temporary sleeping quarters to rest before the next meal is served,” Jiho said, stepping out of her hold and striding purposefully out the door. He didn’t even glance at Nathalie as he led them down the labyrinth of corridors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what'd y'all thinkkkk???


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Alya have a heart to heart. Adrien makes sex jokes (accidentally). The gangTM enter the heart of the temple.

Adrien lay on a plain cot in a small stone room. There was a narrow window over a squat wood desk and a bed. That was about it. It was plenty comfortable, but not quite as impressive as the temple had been thus far in their journey. 

He was curtained off from everyone else’s rooms by a thin white piece of hanging silk. It was hardly any barrier, and he could hear Marinette humming softly, Alya rifling around in her room (He knew it was her because it was very enthusiastic rifling followed by equally enthusiastic sighs of disappointment), and his parents speaking softly in the next room.

They were supposed to be sleeping. Or at the very least resting, as Jiho had insisted. 

Nino and Chloe were silent, so Chloe was definitely sleeping, and Nino could have been sleeping, or just being Nino.

Adrien couldn’t bring himself to sleep though. Or even to rest, considering the tension lacing his muscles. 

He sat up wearily, giving up on the idea of relaxation. He was fully immersed in enemy territory, soaked through with poison. Maugre their generous and obliging treatment, Adrien was more convinced than ever that the Guardians were bad news. 

He paced the room, unsuccessfully attempting to dispel his nervous energy. There was something wrong in the way the guardian had looked, skin white and smooth as marble, the parts of his face left unobscured looking young and handsome. Adrien had imagined stout old men like Fu.

And of course, Jiho. He was such a small boy, barely five-and-a-half, he had mentioned. When they had been brought small bowls of rice and strips of grilled meat, Jiho had needed Nathalie to help him cut his food. Yet this tiny boy was in charge of bringing them food, making up the beds of their rooms, and laundering (or burning) their clothes. He was like some sort of servant, and he didn’t seem to realize it was strange. Apparently, child servants weren’t an unfamiliar concept to the boy.

Adrien had seen Nathalie’s face when she saw Jiho. She had seen the same expression every time he was in danger as Chat Noir, or as Adrien. It was that intense protectiveness, that made her forfeit morality and also made her scary as hell.

His father had been a good villain because he didn’t care too much about what happened to his victims. Nathalie made an even better one because she did.

His fight-or-flight anticipation was making his hands shake.

Finally, Adrien tore open the curtain to his room and crossed into Nathalie’s.

She and his father were sitting next to each other on the bed, talking seriously, with heads bent together.

“Hey Natty, Father,” he greeted them in succession as they silenced and smiled up at him.

“Have you been able to rest?” Nathalie asked, taking a sip of what looked like green tea from a clay cup in her hands.

“Not really,” Adrien shrugged. He didn’t really want her to worry about that though, so he jokingly added, “By the way, am I getting a new little sibling?”

Nathalie choked on her drink. His father turned a deep shade of red.

Adrien realized what he had implied and stumbled to clarify. “I meant Jiho! Since you seemed kind of protective of him! Not anything else! I mean- not that I’d be opposed to siblings that way- I just- er- forget I said anything.”

Nathalie was pointedly avoiding eye contact with his father (who was staring fixedly at the seam between the wall and the ceiling and rubbing his neck awkwardly).

“I am certainly concerned for that boy,” Nathalie answered steadily, “If his situation proves unsafe I do intend to keep him under my care until that can be properly rectified.”

“That makes sense,” Adrien replied, still blushing slightly. “Anyway, I think my friends are calling me so I’ll leave you guys to it. It being talking! Not that you would have assumed otherwise, obviously, I just didn’t want to imply- gotta go bye!”

Adrien left abruptly, bumping into Alya as he tried to leave. She clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away from Nathalie’s room.

“I was just coming to save you from that trainwreck!” She whispered, releasing him from her hold.

“You heard?” he groaned, burying a burning face in his hands.

“No, I didn’t hear anything Sunshine, these curtains are real soundproof,” she drawled.

He glowered at her.

“Aw, lighten up kiddo, I have something that will cheer you up!” She led him to Nino’s room, where his friend was fast asleep, cuddling a pillow against his cheek. He was still in the guardian issued clothes, but mismatched stripy wool socks covered his feet that were decidedly his own.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” Alya said, voice soft.

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, smiling easily at the scene. He realized what he had just admitted. “I- I mean, as my friend you know. Bros supporting bros.”

She raised a knowing eyebrow. “Well, that’s awfully inconvenient. Nino will be so disappointed.”

“I meant to say as bros the first time I’m not a boyfriend stealer- wait what do you mean disappointed?”

“It’s nothing,” Alya said airily, gazing affectionately at her boyfriend. “You said you were just friends and I respect that. Besides, your sexuality is your business.”

“Yeah… my business,” Adrien said, wishing he could understand his own damn business, “But why do you say that like you’d respect it even if I were more than friends with your boyfriend?”

“Well obviously I wouldn’t be offended if you liked Nino like that- anyone with good taste does- and also I am completely aware that outside attraction doesn’t just go away when you enter a monogamous relationship.”

“So you wouldn’t be mad?”

“Adrien, you know we both adore you, I couldn’t be mad.”

Adrien let out an unintentional sigh of relief. “Okay, then I have a bit of an admission,”

Alya gave a small encouraging nod.

“I might be bi.”

Alya smiled and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Congrats, Sunshine, thanks for telling me. Does your father know?”

“I think Nathalie has figured it out but my dad’s kinda oblivious so I’m not entirely sure.”

“Would he be mad?”

Adrien thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. My dad is kinda a dick, but he’s not a homophobic dick.”

“That’s good,” Alya said brightly before quietly tacking on a threatening, “for him.”

“Also I’m like ninety-five percent sure Nathalie was dating Mrs. Bustier for the first few years of working for my family, which is the whole reason I ended up at our school, so if he is biphobic he better get over that real quick.”

“Woah what,” Alya gaped, “You’ve been holding onto this massive tea this whole time and you didn’t tell us!”

“I’ve been trying to get Nathalie as a stepmom, I’m not trying to jinx it by talking about her exes who are clearly superior to my dad!

“But Mrs. Bustier’s married!”

“That’s never stopped Nathalie before,” Adrien refuted, only half joking.

Alya snorted and bent over with giggles.

“Can you two have this conversation in a room where there isn’t a sleeping person?” Nino groaned, voice rough with sleep.

“Well as of now there are no sleeping people in this room so sure!” Alya replied sweetly.

Nino groaned and buried his head under a pillow. “You guys are mean,” his muffled voice stated.

“Aw but we’re just enjoying the view,” Adrien laughed.

Nino flopped over, raising the pillow from his face. “You want a view?” he asked, posing with exaggerated drama, “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

“But we can’t draw for shit!” Alya told him.

“Speak for yourself lady,” Adrien said, running to his room to get the notebook and pen Nathalie packed for important investigative notes. He returned and sketched Nino as a very pretty stick figure with a balloon head and asterisk hands.

Chloe wandered in sleepily, looking mildly annoyed by the noise. She looked between Nino and the drawing, radiating with silent judgment. “You did Nino a damn disservice Agreste.”

“How could you say such a thing about my masterpiece,” Adrien whined, pressing the notebook to his chest protectively. 

“Don’t worry Adrien, I think it looks beautiful,” Nino reassured. 

“That’s because you haven’t seen it yet,” Alya said, examining her nails.

Chloe laughed, glancing at Alya fondly. Adrien unconsciously raised his eyebrows.

The blonde girl looked at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. I’m just cherishing the fact that I’m not the most unsubtle one here, he added silently.

Chloe looked unconvinced but didn’t prod, instead saying, “If you want to be drawn like a proper french girl maybe you should go get someone who can actually draw.”

Nino smiled, “I really hope you’re talking about Mari and not Adrien’s dad.”

Chloe stuck out a tongue in disgust. “Of course I mean Dupain-Cheng you nitwit, I’d much rather be drawn by a pretty girl than an old man.”

“He’s not that old,” Adrien protested.

“Tell that to his greys Sunshine,” Alya said. “Anyway, MARI WE NEED YOU.”

There was a long, slow, sigh before they heard Marinette’s soft footsteps patter to the room.

“Yes?” the pigtailed girl said with one ferociously arched eyebrow. She had to have picked that up from Nathalie.

“We need you to draw us like one of your french girls,” Chloe said, hopping on the bed next to Nino. Adrien and Alya quickly followed, striking the most extravagant poses they could while being precariously piled on the narrow mattress. 

Marinette looked between all of them with fond exasperation and picked up the discarded notebook Adrien had left. She peered at his drawing for a moment.

“I can see why you needed me, we were on the verge of artistic disaster.”

“It was a MASTERPIECE,” Adrien argued.

“You’re lucky the art police haven’t come to collect you for your crimes against humanity.”

“No Mariii why you bully me?” Adrien cried.

“It’s necessary Kitty,” Marinette winked, flipping to a fresh page. Adrien was excited she was actually going to draw them. Part of him was expecting her to draw something dumb, like a donkey sticking its tongue out, and leave them with that.

She looked at them critically for a few moments, soaking in the image before her- one that Adrien assumed was perfectly ridiculous.  
Her pen skimmed the page, lightly dipping to create soft lines. She looked up often, tilting her head slightly here and there. When the nib of her pen began sliding quicker and deeper across the page Adrien felt his breaths stifle. The girl had a look of otherworldly concentration, no longer looking up at them but carefully watching the drawing take shape.

She was confident and focused and so so pretty. Adrien glanced around briefly and saw his friends staring at her with the same fixation. 

Her tongue poked between her lips. There were a few distinct scritches before she looked back up at them. “And done!”

They clambered over each other to see. It was a sweet drawing, each of their expressions drawn just so, each half-smile and glinting eye perfectly accurate to the person.

“Dang,” Adrien whispered, gazing at the drawing, enraptured.

“Dupain-Cheng you are so damn talented it’s annoying.”

“Mari that looks incredible,” Alya breathed.

“Seriously!” Nino agreed.

“Thanks, guys,” Marinette blushed.

Heavy footfalls trod down the stone hallway outside.

“Ms. Sancoeur, Mr. Agreste, You have been in our temple for the customary seven hours and may now proceed into the internal chambers. Please collect your children and follow me.

“Do you think he knows that only one of them is actually our kid?” his father’s voice asked quietly.

“Speak for yourself, they’re all my kids.”

“Goddamn, if they’re your kids they have to be mine too.”

“Have fun with that dear.”

Shoes clicked against the floor. His father and Nathalie entered.

“The weird man has summoned us,” his father stated.

“If he has super-hearing we’re fucked, Gabriel,” Nathalie told him.

“Hey Mr. Guardian, if you have super hearing you can suck my-” Alya whispered before Chloe clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Darling, shut the hell up won’t you?” the blonde growled. Alya batted her eyelashes innocently.

“On that note,” Nathalie said, amused, holding the curtain open for them. Everyone filed out. The Guardian was waiting at the mouth of their wing, with Jiho standing at his heels. The man looked exactly the same with his smooth white skin and pearlescent ivory robes.

Nathalie gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, and they all followed behind the guardian as he led them down winding halls and empty chambers. 

Finally, they reached a large room filled with a winding persimmon tree with smooth grey bark. Its roots dipped into the stone floor and its broad branches brushed the crystal plated ceiling.

Behind the tree was a tall wood door engraved with animals resting on a fruit tree, Wispy looking humanoid figures haunted the space between the branches and in the hollows of its roots.

The guardian glided across the polished floor to the door and smiled a beautiful, welcoming smile. “Behind these doors are the inner chambers of the temple. We welcome you, esteemed guests and honorable wielders of the miraculous.”

He pushed the door open, revealing a huge round room. White and silver fires burned in mother-of-pearl basins, and white-robed guardians stalked the room, walking without looking at them. Some chanted at crystal altars lined with herbs and stones. Many had their hoods removed, revealing matching cornflower blue eyes, and slick oil-black hair. They did not look native to Tibet, or native to anywhere. They looked like poor imitations of people, too smooth and beautiful. Immortal like plastic bottle shards and the steel framework of buildings.

They reluctantly stepped inside, following the guardian and Jiho. The doors slammed shut behind them. The rooms in the inner chambers were more extravagant, walls inlaid with silver, halls broad and tall. 

They were led to a small wing of small apartments. Guardians passed between rooms easily, not looking at them. Whatever “honored guest” title they had been given sure didn’t feel too genuine. They were assigned to a spacious apartment with enough bedrooms to house their entire party twice over even if they didn’t have a habit of ending up in each others' beds (in a completely innocent way of course) (Adrien cringed at all the accidental innuendos he had made that day) (something about being in a respectful pious environment completely ruined him, apparently).

They had a huge lounge room filled with full bookshelves and gilded fur couches. A chandelier of glowing crystals dangled from the ceiling. Each room was filled with huge plush beds and lined with pale tapestries of miraculous wielders fighting ugly beasts Adrien had never seen.

“You are free to move about the temple as you please.” The guardian said cordially. “If you wish to be trained in the ways of the miraculous we have trainers who will teach you the hidden secrets of your jewels.”

Adrien felt Plagg shiver against his chest. Adrien pretended to adjust his shirt to place a protective hand over his kwami. Plagg nestled against him,

“The library is at the mouth of this wing, full of fascinating stories of our history,” the guardian continued. You are free to utilize it as you please. Jiho will bring you meals whenever you ask.”

The little boy shifted on his pudgy little feet, the soles peeking tongues of tired aching red as he moved.

“You are entitled to any luxury you desire while your guardian is trained and ratified into our legacy.”

Even Nathalie couldn’t hide how startled she was.

“Wait- wait- what?” Marinette gaped.

The guardian looked at her, pale blue eyes flashing. “As a guardian, you must be trained in our ways to reap the full power of such a role. Your training will take several weeks. You did say you came here to be further trained, did you not?”

Marinette squeaked. “Yes, of course, I just didn’t realize it would take such dedication.”

“Do not worry,” the guardian smiled, “You will be reunited with your family as soon as you are finished, so long as they stay in the temple.”

“I won’t see them for the entire training process?” Marinette asked, appalled.

“It is customary, for your safety and for theirs. But do not worry, this process is perfectly safe for all of you.”

“I-” Marinette looked around at everyone, first brimming with anxiety, then letting herself harden. “I understand. When do we start?”

“Immediately,” the guardian said, clearly pleased. “I will take you to your special chambers.”

“Wait!” Adrien protested, unable to stop himself, even if it would raise suspicion. “The ladybug and black cat miraculous are supposed to be partners, right? Because they balance each other out.”

“Yes,” the guardian said, looking bored. “What of it?”

“So I should go with her. I won’t train or put her in danger, I promise. I think it would just be better if we were together since we are meant to be partners through everything.

The guardian looked mildly entertained by the idea. “I suppose as her miraculous partner it could not hurt,” he relented. “You are free to join.”

Adrien shot Nathalie one last look before being led away quickly, grasping Marinette’s hand. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course,” Adrien murmured back.

The guardian rapidly led them down a labyrinth of honeycomb-shaped rooms, each filled with steaming pools or floating gems or bizarre herbs growing out of milky crystals. The final room was behind a pair of heavy stone doors. When they entered he bolted it behind them. 

Black coils shot from the floor, winding around their wrists. Adrien cried out. Marinette tried to say her transformation words. They were both gagged by the strange fleshy ropes, stifling any transformation attempt. They were dragged roughly to the floor. 

The guardian watched the scene with detached disinterest. He turned to an ornate silver mirror mounted on the wall. Its reflection seemed to dip and ripple like liquid.

“Mistress,” he said to it.

For a moment Adrien thought he was dreaming when he saw his mother’s face appear in the shining mirror.

When he saw Felix behind her, he realized he was still very much awake.

“I have the targets captive,” the guardian smirked.

The golden woman smiled. “Excellent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No I didn't proofread this, who do you think I am?


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me?? I wrote the whole chapter and now I have to write it again but small. That's so rude. Anyway, the characters are forced to read and I was really fucking nice to all the gabenath shippers in here.

Nathalie paced the marble lengths of the apartment, looking frantic.

The other children looked shell shocked, but their emotions had fluctuated dramatically since Adrien and Marinette had been led away.

Nathalie’s fingers fluttered in old desire to release a sentimonster. She wished she could- coax it from their emotions, mold it into a great beast. Or perhaps something slippery and invisible, to follow them and be her eyes. Or even a cloud of poison gas, to wipe out the men who had taken Adrien away from her.

Gabriel read her mind. Or perhaps felt her desire. He caught her wrist in gentle warning. “They knew Marinette was the guardian without us telling them. They can sense magic somehow. They will know if you try something.”

He said it loud enough for the other children to hear, perhaps intentionally. 

Nathalie could have screamed in frustration. She wanted something to do, so she didn’t have to stand idly by while her kid was alone with fucking cultists. She wanted to kick something, but Jiho was there and she didn’t want to frighten him.

Gabriel gave her a pained look. 

Alya shot up and grabbed her boyfriend and (probably) girlfriend. “That guy said there was a training room, and I have to let out some steam.”

Both Nino and Chloe nodded eagerly. 

Nathalie watched them leave, taut with teenaged anger and frustration. Perhaps there was a certain kind of love to feeling secure in going to try and beat the shit out of each other. A shared energy to dispel. Nathalie couldn’t picture it.

Fighting had never been her favorite pastime, despite her proficiency. She had only learned when her brother had come home in the night, bruised bloody purple and pink like an overripe fig, with torn grocery bags and an empty wallet. Their mother had been at work. She was the one who patched him up, watching her tall, broad, invincible, older brother tremble when she pressed a wet cloth to his skin.

He had been fifteen. Adrien’s age. Nathalie barely twelve. 

The boys who had done it to him were sixteen, still vital and sweet with youth. She was sure they had spent the money on groceries, or maybe new winter coats. One of them had a baby sister who had come to school the next week with new strawberry-pink jelly rainboots. Before, all she’d had were thrift store boots that she had to stick toilet paper in the toes to fit.

There was play-fighting. Childish tussling. 

There was also tearing. Scraping a place for yourself in suffocating ash that gave you none. Nathalie had grown up well versed in that kind. She had promised that any children of hers would never have to face that.

But here they were. Fighting centuries-old magicians. 

She hadn’t cared before or at least convinced herself she hadn’t. She’d learned if you cared for every fighting child in the world you ran out of energy to give.

Now she could hardly stand it.

She could feel the others’ emotions as well, like a shrieking cacophony. Adrien’s friends were angry, craving to take it out on one of the creepy guardians. Gabriel was terrified, his fears amplified by the physical contact- he was still holding her wrist limply.

She could hardly imagine what he was feeling from her. Bitterness probably. Frustration. Rage. Perhaps he could feel her small childish fear. Not childish because it was irrational, instead the fear of children, primal and pure and helpless. She knew he wouldn’t press that deep into her emotions. She almost wished he would, so she wouldn’t be so alone in it.

Nathalie made a frustrated sound and banged her head against Gabriel’s arm. She wasn’t wearing heels so she didn’t even have to bend down- she was only as tall as his shoulder on a good day.

She felt tears catching painfully in her throat and tried to push them away. Gabriel put an arm around her.

“I have had well enough of this magic bullshit,” she muttered, unable to say anything more specific to their situation without crying. 

Gabriel had tears wetting the corners of his eyes, but Nathalie stubbornly held onto hers. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Hey,” he said softly, voice fragile. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

Nathalie had to bite her lip to keep the little sobs from escaping her. She furrowed her brow in concentration. She had already cried so many tears over this damn family. Years of hardening her heart had been so swiftly palliated. 

He kept his hands on her arms, gently brushing up and down their lengths. Normally it was her comforting him. 

Nathalie sniffed. Gabriel let his head relax forward, his lips resting on her hairline. 

She didn’t want anyone to see her crying this time. She felt silly and juvenile for no reason she could discern. She buried her face in his shirt and allowed herself a few moments of reprieve. He absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair as she cried. 

When Nathalie wrangled enough control over her emotions enough to swallow her tears she felt a tender appreciation for Gabriel. 

She had loved him for a year. Admired him for longer. That was well enough known by now (except to him because he was chronically oblivious). But before it had been superficial and passionate. She was moved by the lengths he’d go for Emilie, wishing a love like that for herself. She’d never seen anyone love so deeply as that. Perhaps she had coveted that secure loyalty more than she had loved him at that time.

But now it was something different. They had become confidants early in her employment, and friends as Hawkmoth and Mayura. They worked easily together, conversed often, and shared the same quiet ambition. That had not broken when she betrayed his trust and told him to give up Hawkmoth. He had chosen her. Not out of that blind loyalty she had so craved, but as a decision between two friends who wanted to help each other. Her care for him had grown into something far healthier, and far more precious than she ever thought it could have. 

Her eyelashes fluttered against his warm damp shirt. She clutched him a little tighter to her, rumpling the fabric of his shirt in her fists. 

“I love you,” she murmured into his shoulder, imaging the words sinking into his skin like a sweet-scented balm.

His hand stilled in her hair, resting at the base of her skull. Nathalie did not fear that he had heard. She was no longer afraid of surrendering love genuinely anymore. She lifted her face.

Gabriel smiled at her like she was the moon who had shone her glowing silvery tear-stained face. He pressed a kiss to her salty cheek. 

“I love you too.”

He kissed her cheekbone.

“I love you.”

Then her jaw.

“I love you.”

And the corner of her mouth.

“I love you.”

Nathalie smiled at him, still aching with worry, but hopeful all the same. “We’ll be alright,” she promised him pulling his mouth to hers. She tasted his tears on his lips.

When they parted he pressed his nose to hers and shut his eyes in pleasure. He looked softened, the bone-deep worry soothed and focused.

“We will,” he rasped, “And we will get them back.”

She nodded silently, balanced on her tiptoes to press her cheek to his. There was stubble across his jaw.

Nathalie felt her usual cunning resurface from under her thawing despair. The Guardian had mentioned something about a library. The wheels in her head turned.

Arms swept under her legs and hoisted her up. Nathalie gave a little shriek as Gabriel lifted her against his torso. He had a hopeful smile on his face.

“Now, unless my miraculous is lying to me, you are lighting up like a woman with an idea.”

Nathalie grinned, “I just might, my darling. I might even tell you it if you ask nicely.”

A little giggle murmured from somewhere in the room. In all the intensity of her worry, Nathalie hadn’t noticed a wiggly little shape under a blanket on the couch.

“That pillow looks quite comfortable,” she mused to Gabriel good-naturedly. “I think I might just lie down on it.” She stretched out over the squirming shape lightly. 

Jiho popped out from under the blanket looking scandalized. “I’m not a pillow!”

Nathalie feigned surprise. “Oh my goodness! The pillow turned into a little creature.”

“I’m not a creature,” he protested, “I’m Jiho!”

Nathalie looked at him suspiciously, “Are you sure? With that wild hair of yours, you could definitely be a little creature.”

The boy awkwardly tried to smooth his staticky black hair with a pudgy hand. 

Nathalie lifted the boy for Gabriel to see. “Do you think this is a little boy or a little monster?”

Gabriel stroked an imaginary beard on his chin. “He’s much too sweet to be a monster, but I think the only way we’ll know for sure is if he guides us to our friends in the training room.”

Jiho kicked his feet, eager to be let down and prove his innocence. “I’ll show you, it’s right over here!”

He scampered down the hall with Gabriel and Nathalie close behind.

They entered a large room full of supple wood staffs and what looked like various exercise tools. Nino, Alya, and Chloe stood around a clear fountain, sweaty and bruised and red-eyed from what Nathalie assumed was both crying and sparring. They had clean white rags that they dipped into the water and rubbed across their skin.

“The tall man says Nathalie had a plan and also they kissed!” Jiho announced helpfully. Nathalie flushed. Nino retrieved something from his pocket and handed it to Chloe. The girl smirked and shoved it in her bra.

Nathalie cleared her throat, glancing around at the nearby guardians. They were all out of earshot, sparing in separate cells with the windowed doors shut. Still, she kept her voice low and her expression casual. 

“We need to go to the library, I have a theory that needs to be tested that could possibly help us.”

The teens looked eager to comply. Marinette seemed to be the planning one of the bunch and without her, they seemed plenty willing to give Nathalie the reins.

“Jiho,” she said crouching down to the boy. “I know it’s late but can you show us the way to the library?”

The boy nodded and led them down the halls, his feet shuffling. After a few corridors, Nathalie just put him on her hip and told him to point the way to go.

The library was much like the rest of the Temple, with white marble floors and silver gilded walls, lined with stark black and white tapestries. Tall white shelves rose to the silvery domed ceiling, filled with neat leather and cloth-bound books with crisp white pages. It was completely empty of guardians, unlike all the other rooms they’d been in.

“Alright,” she said, still carrying Jiho, “Here’s my thought process. In Emilie’s journal she had all sorts of written legends, some we recognize, and the one about the unnamed man with the kwamis null and void. All of those legends are part of this temple’s history. Because the guardians have been effectively destroyed for two-hundred years, she couldn’t have learned about these things orally. That means there must be some written history of this temple that she got her hands on, one that sparked enough distrust in her to make her use the miraculous for her purpose.”

She paused to set Jiho on a plush pillow on the floor. The boy had fallen asleep.

“If we find those stories about the shady things the guardians have done, then we can probably find more stories to help us create a plan since the Guardian said the library has the whole history of the temple.”

“And if not?” Chloe asked.

“And if, as I suspect will be the case, we find nothing to raise that kind of suspicion in here, that means there are books or written records they are withholding from us, and finding them will be our first step in properly dismantling this facade they have up.”

They nodded determinedly, and everyone began to look around. They searched for hours, combing the shelves methodically, skimming each book for anything that could raise alarm or help their case. Much to Nathalie’s expectation, most of them were puffy stories boasting about gallant heroes and the wise and merciful guardians. They were like fairytales that were just happy enough to be unsettling. There was much complaint of monsters and beasts that attacked the temple, some recognizable from mythology and others completely unknown to her. Why they attacked was never explained, nor was how the kwamis existed long before the miraculous ever could have. One story said the miraculous were gifted from gods to the guardians, but it didn’t explain how the kwamis remembered dinosaurs. 

By the time they finished the sun was beginning to rise, though its light was faint from where they were cradled in the story mountains. No one had found anything useful, nor alluding to any of the stories Emilie had written about.

“The more I looked the worse it got,” Nino said, “everything was so superficially righteous, but no one’s motivations were actually explained.”

Alya yawned. “This place is so creepy. All those shady stories Adrien’s mom had were nowhere to be found. They just smoothed everything over! We should go looking through the temple and try to find a real history of this place, and try to find where they’re keeping Adrien and Marinette.”

“We certainly should,” Gabriel agreed, “But I believe it would be prudent to eat and rest first. At the very least to keep up appearances.”

No one could argue with that. The kids headed straight to the apartment while Gabriel collected Jiho and Nathalie went to a small nearby dining hall to retrieve steaming bowls of food. 

They ate in a circle, silently, before trudging off to their respective rooms. They slept deeply for a few hours and upon waking went to the bath chambers to wash and put on fresh clothes. They ate another simple meal, tender white fish in a golden broth with doughy white buns.

The guardian came to check on them, and they asked for game boards and books to “pass the time.” He complied and seemed satisfied with their complacency. When he left, they began planning, scouting the hallways, looking for a place where they could find the information they were looking for. 

They found unused rooms full of painted seed jewelry and beaded clothes, all in varying children’s sizes. They were more colorful than the clothes they had seen in the temple, and more practical, the fabric course and lined with furs. There was a crate of children’s shoes, all moth-eaten and old. 

There were other rooms where children stayed, though most seemed to be on the outskirts of the building. They were simple, like the rooms they were first given, and the children they saw were either working or sleeping. Either way, they stayed in the shadows, shrinking away from the group when they saw their magic jewels.

It was Alya who finally found the room they were looking for, a reasonably sized room without all the lavish furniture. There were scrolls and various old looking books. The problem was that it was filled with guardians studying the texts. The door was locked, and despite her valiant attempts to see through the door’s window, no new information was attained. When a guardian had found her peering into the room from the hallway he had every so politely escorted her back to her room.

Alya had been positively stewing, and Nathalie plotted a way to get into the room. It seemed the guardians had human needs the same as them, if less. They waited for the night to deepen to begin to prowl the halls. The flow of guardians waned as the night stretched on. Nathalie counted one passing their doorway every two minutes. Twenty seconds after the most recent guardian passed she filed everyone (except Jiho) (He was eating sweet dried persimmons and playing with marbles in her room). 

They quickly shuffled through the hallways, often ducking into storage rooms of children’s clothes to avoid being spotted. Slowly they made their way back to the room, carefully counting the intervals between passing guardians.

The room was mercifully empty when they arrived at it, peeking in its window. Nathalie glanced around briefly before grabbing two bobby pins out of her pocket and bending them into lockpicks. She heard the click, click, click of each pin sliding into place and the door swung open. 

The clean metallic smell of the temple gave way to the dusty scent of old paper and dried ink. They filed in quickly and Nathalie let the door drift shut quietly. 

Chloe took lookout, watching carefully through the window, she told them to hide when guardians passed. Thankfully the room had plenty of shelves and tables and piles of scrolls to obscure themselves with. No one entered. 

The writing they got was not nearly the comprehensive history the library had stored. There were mostly papers containing spells and illustrations of miraculous. Unlike the books, the ink didn’t fold and shift in their pages, morphing to French characters when they read. 

One illustration that caught her eye was an illustration of two rings, one white as ivory with a faint pearlescent sheen, and the other a shiny silver band. Two kwamis emerged from the rings, one a white swan, the other a black one. 

The dark swan kwami seemed to command an army, faces expressionless and eyes a haunting pale blue. The white swan kwami had a large beastly creature in its clutches, bound in glowing cornflower-colored chains. Its eyes glowed the same vacant shade.

Nathalie slit her eyes and folded the illustration, tucking it into the waistband of her pants.

“I found something!” Nino hissed. They crowded around him, peering at the brittle paper in front of him. 

The was a small written spell on the paper, wound in various sigils. Small illustrated steps lined the crinkled edges. It occurred to Nathalie the abducted children from the village were quite likely illiterate. Any spells that they were taught would have to be illustrated. It was excellent news for them.

“Look here,” he said pointing to an illustration at the top of the page. There was a small illustration of what the spell did. There was a kwami at the center of the page, a ring of light surrounding them. The kwami seemed to be dizzy, misty lavender tendrils spilling from its head. Writing Nathalie didn’t understand was wound in the mist. It was clear the spell was taking something from the kwami. Information perhaps. Or maybe memories.

Duusu zipped out of her tunic. “You’re not thinking of using that spell are you?” she cringed.

“Of course not,” Nathalie whispered. “But that could be the reason you don’t remember how you became a part of the miraculouses.”

“So how do we fix it?” Trixx rasped.

Nooro floated by Gabriel’s shoulder, peering at the paper. “Perhaps there is an anti-spell?”

“It may not even require that,” Chloe said, abandoning her post. “Alya, what happens when dumbasses in horror movies fuck up the salt circle?”  


“The spell goes to shit and the white guy dies first?” Alya answered.

“Exactly. This is our salt circle. Look at the illustrations, the spell comes from the sigils on the paper and the blood drops on these corners. If the spell relies on the symbols on the paper, if we destroy it, maybe it will undo the spell.”

“Seems plausible to me,” Nathalie shrugged. 

The kwamis all nodded in agreement. “It could work,” came hushed little whispers.

Nino took the page and looked around. A shiny black bottle sat on a shelf, stoppered with wax. He grabbed the bottle and thumbed off the wax seal. He tipped the bottle over the page. Thick black ink spilled onto the paper, obscuring the illustrations. The blackness steeped into the page and began to bubble and crackle. Lavender mist began to billow up from the page, thick and ink-scented. It spurted up in huge clouds, sweeping through the room and spilling out into the temple.

Duusu’s eyes welled with fat tears as the billowing gas enveloped her. “Oh!” the little kwami shrieked.

Similar reactions passed across the other kwamis. 

“What happened?” Chloe asked Pollen, holding the creature in her cupped palms.

“We can remember now,” Wayzz said for her, floating in a drowsy little ring. “We can remember everything.”

“Are you alright? What did you remember?” Gabriel asked settling Nooro on his shoulder.

The little purple kwami answered. “We weren’t always part of the miraculous. We were bound to them by the guardians. We were spirits of the forces of the world, of creation, destruction, illusion, emotion, and so on. The guardians found out about our existence and trapped us in the jewels to take advantage of our powers. Those monsters the guardians slaughtered were the other spirits trying to save us. Now they’re all dead, because of our powers.”

“How did they find out about you?” Nathalie asked, cradling her crying kwami. 

“We were betrayed,” Trixx sneered, “By our brother and sister spirits, Null and Void.”

“The kwami of the twin rings,” Nathalie said, “Why would they betray you?”

“They wanted to be more powerful thank Tikki and Plagg. So they showed the humans how to see us and trap us using their powers. Void, the dark one, could trap the human spirit under her spell. She used her powers to convince the humans of this plan. Null, the white one, could trap the spirits of nature. He used his powers on us and condemned us all to servitude within the miraculous because he thought he would be more powerful as an ally to the humans.”

“Didn’t he just trap him and void in the jewelry as well?” Alya asked.

“No,” Pollen said mournfully, “We are at the disposal of humans, but they only transform who they wish to. Someone could wear their jewels for years and never taste a shred of their strength. But should they choose a victor to transform, that person would have control of every spirit and human they came across.”

“Is that why that man from Emilie’s stories stole them away from the guardians? To hide their powers from the wrong hands?”

“We believe so,” Nooro said, “He was a good soul.”

“I wonder what happened to the two rings,” Alya said. Dread was pooling in Nathalie’s stomach, but when she tried to follow the feeling her head began to throb.

A loud blow erupted from outside. The door rattled, splinters flying from its cracking edges. Another blow fell against the wood. A deep fracture slit down its body. They transformed, bodies tensed for a fight. 

The door shattered and guardians spilled into the room, weapons in hand, faces blank, and eyes glowing pale cornflower blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all comments are super super appreciated, and as we near the end if you have anything to see in the future for these characters please please please comment because I will always try to accommodate what you want.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan and I pray to god I've tied up all the plotlines.

Adrien had not expected Nathalie to straight-up murder a guardian. In hindsight, he probably should have expected it, considering she was one of the most infamous terrorists of the century, but she was also his adoptive mother so it was difficult to reconcile her different (more violent) facets.

Also, it apparently didn’t take much to murder those guys. After who-knows-how-long of being tied up and hauled around by guardians, Adrien had really gleaned an inflated impression of strength from these guys. He thought they were invincible. But then Mayura had yanked the ankle of a floating guardian, slammed him onto the floor, and jammed the pointed head of her fan into his chest.

She probably hadn’t even meant to kill him. The blow wouldn’t have done more than stunned a miraculous wielder. But the guardian’s smooth white skin had cracked like a thick layer of white-painted china and crumbled around him, hair and eyes shattering like fragile crystal. Inside the shattered remains was a dusty skeleton, flesh yellowed and dried against bones, thin brittle hair mummified against the old skin. It made a small rasp of relief before its dry black eyes fell shut.

Mayura had looked at the thing in detached horror before narrowing her eyes and turning to the next closest guardian. The unlucky man held up a wood pole and leaped around her with impressive agility, but Nathalie was pissed so the poor bastard had no chance. He and his pole ended up shattered and splintered across the floor. 

Marinette gagged beside him at the dry husks of corpses rolled from the guardian’s stony flesh. 

His other friends looked horrified from his vantage point in the room. His father looked perturbed but began to fight alongside Mayura, trying to stop the advancing crowd. Eventually, even his friends began to fight, self-preservation winning out against shock. 

Amelie watched the fight beside them, looking unconcerned and faintly amused. “Alright, that’s enough. You can stop with the brutality now.”

Everyone looked up at them, finally noticing Adrien, Marinette, Amelie, and Felix’s position on the balcony above the room of scrolls. Felix held up a black-gloved hand, his ring glinting. The guardians stilled, suspended like marionettes in the air. 

His father stared at Amelie, mouth agape, before noticing Felix beside her and scowling. His friends stared at him and Marinette in relief. Nathalie tore toward Amelie, poised to attack, her blue skirt flared behind her.

Felix swished a hand and Nathalie jerked to a stop, gasping painfully at the force of it.

Adrien snarled at his cousin. 

He grinned back smugly, waggling his fingers. “The power to control the human spirit,” he said, “pretty nice, huh?”

“Fuck off you entitled British fuckwad!” Chloe yelled at him. Felix gave a haughty sniff and tossed his head to the side.

“Oh, that’s quite enough now,” Amelie said sweetly. Her voice rang threateningly across the room. 

“Now- oh Miss Sancoeur please stop struggling it’s futile- I suggest you surrender now if you want to see Adrien and Marinette freed.

Everyone looked at each other uncertainly. It was only when Nathalie went slack that the others followed the order. 

“Excellent choice,” Amelie purred. “Now, give me your miraculouses.”

A general outcry of opposition erupted. Felix lifted a hand, and Adrien and Marinette drifted into the air. Their family gasped. He jerked them over the balcony, their feet dangling over a too-high drop. 

In one swift move, the invisible force suspending them released, and the pair dropped a few feet. Alya cried out for Marinette. His father rushed forward as if he could catch them. 

Thankfully Felix twirled a lazy hand and they stopped falling, but the effect was there. Alya was crying. Nathalie was paler than she ever had been when she was sick. 

“Now you understand the situation you are in.” Amelie said cheerfully, “You cannot interfere with Void’s magic. If Felix decides they must fall there is nothing you can do to change that. So hand over the jewels.”

His friends stared for a helpless moment before unclasping their miraculouses. 

“Don’t-” Marinette shrieked before her lips were clamped shut.

It was enough. They all hesitated, miraculouses still in hand. 

Amelie tutted. Adrien felt that invisible force wrap around his middle and suddenly he was flying toward the stone wall. He collided hard and fast, pain exploding in his shoulder and skull. Something dripped warm and thick from his forehead. Adrien groaned.

“How dare you!” Nathalie growled, miraculous repinned to her chest.

“I told you my terms, Miss Sancoeur,” Amelie smiled, “And those are the consequences of failing to meet them.”

“How do we know you’ll stick to your terms and give us back Adrien and Marinette?” Nathalie asked poisonously. 

Amelie tapped her chin in mock contemplation. “Perhaps we’ll sign a contract,” she smiled. “A magic contract, we will both be bound to.”

Nathalie eyed her wearily. “Fine.”

Amelie pressed her hand to some hidden spot on the wall and an ornate marble staircase spilled from the floor. She descended with tranquil ease, plucking a fresh scroll from a pile. 

“Get me the binding ink,” she commanded, waving a hand at one of the remaining guardians. He retrieved it blankly, along with a pale quill.

“Here are the terms,” Amelie narrated as she wrote. “In return for every miraculous you possess, I will give you Adrien and Marinette with no further harm to them.”

The writing glowed silver as she wrote. She signed it with a flourish before handing it to Nathalie. 

Nathalie read over it carefully, eyes tracing every line with intense precision. She sighed before signing the document reluctantly.

Silver light wreathed the two women’s wrists, winding around them like chains, before fading into the air.

Nathalie looked startled for a split second before her features smoothed over into her normal blank stare.

“Goodness, nothing startles you does it?” Amelie gently prodded, holding out her waiting palm.

Nathalie unpinned her brooch. The others followed. Amelie cheerfully retrieved the jewels. She didn’t don a single one until she got to his father.

“I’ll be needing your ring as well.”

His father glowered at her but retrieved the ring from his pocket. Adrien duly wondered why it was in his pocket and not on his finger.

Amelie slipped it on. A silky white kwami poured out, eyes beady and black as pitch. “My champion. I feel the power you crave and will fortify you in your quest. I am called Null.”

“Thank you, darling,” Amelie murmured, spinning candy floss with her sucrose tongue. “Null, transform me.”

White light enveloped her. Amelie’s dark suit melted into a white dress, shaped similarly to Mayura’s. She had pale magenta accents and matching eyes. Her hair was swirled around her face like a flapper. 

“You stole my look,” Nathalie said, unimpressed.

“Well, you stole my dead sister’s look so you’re one to talk,” Amelie retorted mercilessly.

Nathalie rolled her eyes. “Yes, because you’re ever the caring twin, destroying everything she fought for.”

Amelie laughed. “You make a good point, why do you think I killed her?”

“What?” Adrien cried, despite the throbbing pain in his head.

“You-” Nathalie gaped, glare sharpening. 

His father lunged forward but was caught in Felix’s magic. “What did you do to Emilie?”

“Oh don’t look so betrayed, Gabriel,” Amelie responded cheerfully. “She wanted the miraculous to 'belong to the people' and I simply couldn’t allow that. I honestly did you all a favor by breaking her miraculous.”

Gabriel stared at her.

Nathalie spat on her face. “Treacherous bitch. Emilie deserved better.”

Amelie scoffed, wiping her cheek. “Hardly. And judging by the news footage, you took her man so you should be grateful.

“You should be grateful I don’t strike you down,” his father grumbled.

Amelie shook her head, fair cornsilk hair bobbing. “You have no power here, unfortunately. Striking me down is not really an option.”

“Just let Adrien and Marinette go,” Nathalie said, sounding as mundanely annoyed as when she dealt with a difficult client. It was a facade, but a convincing one.

Amelie gave a little nod to Felix, who relaxed his hand like an elegant conductor. Adrien felt himself sink gently to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the marble Felix seemed to release everyone, and they all rushed toward them, enveloping him and Mari in hugs. 

Alya was the first to reach Marinette, hand cradling the other girl's head. “Oh my god, Mari,” she sobbed into her shoulder. Marinette held her with the same force.

Nathalie grabbed Adrien and pulled her to him, burying her nose in his hair and breathing him in. “Oh my kitten,” she murmured, tightening her hold around him. He felt his father’s arms join hers, then everyone was tangled together and he couldn’t tell who was who anymore.

“How heartwarming,” Amelie cooed, voice dripping with sickly-sweet honey. “Unfortunately it is time to be split once again.”

“What are you talking about? You signed the damn contract, you said you would give Adrien and Marinette back,” his father challenged.

“Of course,” Amelie agreed. “But I never promised you her,” she said, yanking Nathalie from the group. Immediately his father tore forward, and Nathalie wrapped her hands around the woman’s slender neck, but both froze in place. Adrien felt Felix’s magic bind him in stillness.

“Give her back!” Adrien yelled hopelessly.

“I’m afraid I need her, little one,” Amelie said, sweeping Nathalie up with miraculous enhanced strength. Nathalie hung limply, like a doll. Her eyes turned pale instead of their normal vivid sea blue.

Amelie retreated up the stairs, disappearing behind a door at the top of the balcony. 

“What is she going to do to Nathalie?” Adrien screamed at his cousin, who looked pale.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” he ground out, seemingly concentrating intensely.

“You can’t hold those powers, boy,” his father said mirthlessly. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Stay out of this Uncle,” Felix muttered, sweat beading on his brow.

“Did your mother teach you that?” his father continued, “That you could extend your transformation by sacrificing your own vitality?”

“Yes,” Felix said proudly.

“Did she tell you only adults can do that safely, and children can die from trying it?”

Felix’s arm wavered ever so slightly. “You’re lying.”

“He’s not,” Marinette defended. “I’m a guardian, I know. That’s why none of us stay transformed after using our powers."

“That’s because you’re weak,” Felix cried, arms trembling. “My mother told me so.”

“She lied,” Marinette said. “It is because it will damage you if you keep abusing the magic like that.”

“The kwami are trapped spirits of nature. Their powers were never meant to be wielded by human hands,” his father explained.

Felix was wavering and they all knew it. Adrien felt the spell around him weakening.

“You will run out of energy whether you believe us or not,” Adrien said, injecting his words with the same poisonous vitriol he had learned from Nathalie and his father. “You know you’re weakening. You might as well release us now so when we are inevitably free of your spell we might offer you some mercy.”

Felix’s eyes flashed. His arms lowered. Adrien felt the spell around him relax.

Adrien flew up the stairs as soon as his legs could move. He felt his friends and father close behind. Felix flinched as he drew near, raising his hands defensively. Adrien clasped his cousin’s shoulder gently. “Thank you, Felix,” he said genuinely.

“Please,” Felix whispered tiredly, falling slack against the wall. “Please don’t hurt my mother.”

“I won’t, as long as she doesn’t hurt mine.”

Felix seemed to accept this. He let out a painful cough that wracked his whole body. His eyelids drifted shut.

“Is he-” Marinette whispered in horror.

Adrien placed a finger beneath his cousin’s nose. Too-warm air escaped in uneven breaths. Adrien slipped the ring off his cousin’s finger and slid it on his.

“No,” Adrien said in relief, “but he’s very weak.”

Marinette nodded. Adrien turned to the giant door. He quietly rattled the knob. Locked.

“Here,” Alya said, pushing forward, “Nathalie taught me a bit of lockpicking.” She jammed some bent hairpins into the lock. She carefully wriggled the tools. After an agonizing while, the lock clicked. 

The door swung open in a blaze of white light. A giant glowing swan creature burst forward, crooning with a deep bellowing inflection. It sounded pained. Its eyes glowed fragmented cornflower and magenta. Its body looked frail and rotten. 

Adrien stumbled back, terror spiking in his chest. The creature swung its serrated beak, knocking him and his friends across the balcony. Scrolls spilled over him, shielding Adrien from view. He crouched, watching from his vantage point as the giant swan attacked his friends. It completely ignored Felix.

If Felix’s power was to control people, Amelie’s was to control spirits. All the spirits had been killed. 

Adrien peered through the creature's exposed ribcage, and peeking skull. Her control apparently extended beyond the grave. And she could command it to ignore Felix. 

Adrien still hadn’t been spotted. He glanced behind the creature, into the room where Amelie and Nathalie were. The spell on Nathalie was gone too, but she lay strapped to a table. A knife lay neatly beside her. Patterned circles of salt were carefully drawn across the floor. Glinting miraculous lay at specific points. Adrien even saw miraculouses he had last seen in America. Clearly, whatever his aunt had been doing, she had been preparing for a long time.

If he could just get in there without the Swan creature or Amelie noticing.

As the creature turned its back to Adrien he crept out of his hiding spot to his cousin. He quietly swapped their tunics, and ruffled his cousin's hair, while smoothing back his own. If pretending to be his cousin as a child had any use, he prayed it was right now.

He covered Felix with the scrolls and edged quietly toward the room where Nathalie was. He was leaving his friends and father to deal with the creature, but they had all donned wooden sticks and were more than capable of holding it off. He hoped.

He entered the room with his cousin's flat formal expression. Amelie barely spared him a glance as she busily arranged salt and herbs and miraculous.

“I could not hold the spell Mother. I am sorry. I was too weak,” Adrien said with a slightly lower tone than his normal one.

“That’s alright dear, I am more than capable of holding them off for the spell.” She said cheerily, waving a hand. “Now give me your ring.”

“Wha- Mother,” Adrien said before handing it over to avoid suspicion. His heart was racing, and he felt a faint lightheaded prickling against his skull. “I thought your ring alone would be powerful enough.”

“To hold them off, certainly,” Amelie explained, slipping the ring onto her finger, “But I need every miraculous for the wish.”

“Ah,” Adrien said, mind reeling.

“Why do you need her?” Adrien asked blandly, pointing at Nathalie.

Amelie still did not look up from her careful work. “Her miraculous was broken. It transferred its wounds to her, but also its abilities. Some of its power remains in her blood. If I want to possess all the powers of the miraculous within me, I have to kill her and release the magic trapped in her body.”

Adrien tensed. Amelie finally looked up at him.

“Oh, don’t worry pumpkin,” she sighed, striding across the room and pulling him into a hug. “This little setback won’t stop us. Once I embody all the powers of the miraculous we’ll be safe. What happened to your father won’t happen to us.”

Adrien nodded and tried to relax into the embrace. “Of course, I believe in you mother.”

“Thank you my darling. Now let me finish the circle, and I can begin the wishing spell.”

Adrien nodded, and walked slowly around the room, trying to appear unimpressed. When he reached Nathalie he pleaded with her with his eyes. Please know it’s me. Please let her understand.

She looked at him and the corners of her mouth twitched up ever so slightly. “Sweet boy,” she whispered almost imperceptibly. 

Adrien sighed in relief. “You still have the power of Mayura in you, Natty. Amelie said it herself. She can control humans and spirits, but not sentimonsters.”

Nathalie gave a faint nod. Her eyes narrowed in concentration. Faint blue swirls wheezed from her fingers. 

“Give me an object.”

Adrien yanked a button from his tunic and cautiously placed it between her fingers. Nathalie’s eyes scrunched shut and her complexion impossibly paled further.

Adrien felt the prickly static feeling of someone transforming behind him. When he turned back Amelie’s suit was a mottled combination of white and black silk with a crown of swan feathers nestled in her hair.

“It’s time,” she breathed with delight. “Once she is dead I can use the ladybug and black cat miraculous to wish all the powers of the miraculous into my possession.” She strode to where Nathalie was bound and expertly picked up the knife. Adrien tried not to wince. Nathalie didn’t bother to open her eyes, and her eyebrows furrowed with focus. 

Amelie pressed the tip of the blade into Nathalie’s exposed neck. The skin dipped before splitting neatly beneath the point. A swell of blood bloomed forth, and Adrien shivered unconsciously. He prayed she could make the sentimonster before it was too late.

The blade dug forward and Nathalie let out a small yelp of pain. Adrien was ready to blow his cover and yank Amelie away when Nathalie’s fingers peeled open, and Adrien saw the ivory button had turned a bubbling navy blue.

Amelie saw too and whirled toward Adrien, eyes narrowed at the missing button on his clothes. “You’re not-” she hissed before a giant peacock took form behind them and screeched monstrously. Amelie raised her hands to fight it but the creature swung its great neck forward and slammed her into a wall.

Adrien felt the pull of Amelie’s magic controlling him once again, and he saw the same effect come over Nathalie. Before she lost control of her limbs Nathalie flicked the button onto the floor and let it roll to some random spot. Amongst the complex patterns of salt stretching across the floor and the scattered miraculouses, it was impossible to see the button.

“I command you to make this monster release me,” Amelie shouted at Nathalie, who looked back with cold pale blue eyes. 

“I cannot mistress,” Nathalie answered blankly, “The object has been lost and the sentimonster will continue to protect its original master until a new one possesses the object.

Amelie screamed in frustration before jerking her free hand in strange movements. The swan spirit thundered through the giant door, clashing fiercely with Nathalie’s peacock sentimonster. The two birds didn’t have enough room to fly but still tangled with each other in a mess of stabbing beaks and clawing talons.

While the birds fought, his father and friends spilled into the room, undetected as Amelie tried to escape beneath the peacock’s heavy tail feathers.

“Grab your miraculouses, they’re on the floor,” Adrien yelled, still unable to move. 

The others skirted around the floor, trying to grab their miraculouses without colliding with the fighting monsters or Amelie’s line of sight.

Flapping wings loosed great gusts of wind and falling feathers.

Around him, he saw flashes of light and suddenly there were brightly colored heroes flitting about the room. Amelie couldn't control them if she couldn’t see where they were. 

Queen Bee’s throbbing needle stabbed the swan. It didn’t seem to have much penetration through the protective white feathers, but enough venom touched the spirit to make its movements sluggish and heavy. 

Rena filled the room with illusions of heroes, all winding across to the floor to confuse Amelie and her spirit. The bird shook its head in dizzy confusion.

All of Amelie’s focus went toward controlling her beast. The compulsion on Adrien waned. He rushed to Nathalie and sliced through her bindings with the knife Amelie had used to cut her.

“Thank you kitten,” Nathalie strained, eyes still focused on her sentimonster. Beads of sweat and blood dripped down her skin. Her hands lifted, still swirling with her inky blue magic. The glossy peacock lifted its massive head and tore into the swan with the force of Nathalie’s concentration. The white bird collapsed against the stone wall, sending rubble tumbling through the room. It groaned deeply before falling silent. 

The peacock whirled on Amelie and trapped her beneath one of its scaly feet. Amelie roared in frustration. 

Nathalie moved to her sentimonster, petting its feathers affectionately. Then she turned to Amelie and snatched at her hand, removing the Graham de Vanily rings.

Amelie’s transformation dropped. There were tears at the corners of her eyes. 

Nathalie swayed on her feet. His father rushed to her side to hold her upright.

“Marinette,” Nathalie called. Ladybug swung down to them. Nathalie dropped the rings into the girl’s hands. 

“These are safer in the care of a proper guardian,” Nathalie said.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Marinette said gently. She turned to his father. “You said the kwami were trapped spirits of nature?”

“Yes,” the man confirmed gravely. “We discovered the kwami were spirits but were trapped in jewels by the kwami of the Graham de Vanily rings. Void controls humans and Null controls spirits. So Null forced them to become servants inside the jewels while he and his sister were free to choose the most powerful champions.”

“So how did Emilie ever get ahold of the rings?” Chloe asked. “Did she steal them?”

“They are our rightful possessions!” Amelie shrieked fervently. They belong to our family and they have for 2,000 years. Our ancestor wielded them before he escaped the temple. Emilie was just too misguided to be a champion!”

“Yeah okay thanks,” Chloe said with distaste. 

Marinette looked around thoughtfully. “The miraculous wish requires a full physical entity to embody,” she said as though she were reciting it, “isn’t that why you kept Mrs. Agreste’s body, Mr. Agreste?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, confused.

“Well, Amelie so kindly collected all the miraculous from across the world in this room. If we used the ladybug and black cat miraculous to make a wish, we could free all the kwami forever, and the spirits would be restored to their former balance and freedom.”

“We have everything we need,” Nathalie agreed. “They deserve to finally be free.

“No!” Amelie cried, voice ragged. “Don’t do that, please. You beat me. Fine. I can’t keep all the miraculous power within me, but don’t destroy them!”

Nathalie turned to the woman, an eyebrow arched.

“Ms. Sancoeur, you’re a smart woman,” Amelie said desperately, “You really think the miraculous are the only hidden magical force out there? Emilie was selfish, she exposed you all to the magic and now you are at risk. They can sense you now! If you release the kwami you will have no defenses, you won’t be able to protect Adrien. What do you think happened to my husband? There are forces outside the miraculous that will target you because you’ve wielded magic, and if you destroy the jewels you will be defenseless! Could you forgive yourself if Adrien died?”

Nathalie hesitated. “You’re lying. This is the right thing to do. The kwami deserve to be free.”

“You think that will matter to you when other magic of this world destroys everything you love?” Amelie shrieked. “We will all die and you won’t be able to pretend you are so morally righteous then!”

Nathalie turned her back to the pleading woman. “Let’s free the spirits,” she said with steady determination.

“They will smell the magic on you,” Amelie hissed, “They will find you and snuff you out for this.”

Adrien and Nathalie retrieved their respective miraculouses from the scratched floor. The others collected the other miraculouses scattered across the room and put them in a small pile at the center. The walls had been torn open and Adrien could see surrounding rooms where guardians lay crumbled and motionless on the floor.

With every miraculous gathered, all they had to do was make the wish and the kwami would be free from humans forever. Adrien thought of a life without Plagg and felt a bittersweet ache lace his heartstrings. 

The others seemed to share his sentimentality, and everyone was speaking softly with their kwamis, or cuddling them close. Duusu was crying loudly, head buried in Nathalie’s sternum.

“Plagg,” Adrien said weakly. 

“Hey kid,” his kwami said with glassy eyes. “I guess you won’t have to worry about carrying around stinky camembert anymore.

Adrien sniffed. “Yeah, I think I might miss that smell without you.”

“Hey,” Plagg whimpered, “I’ll be following you around the whole time. Even if I’m a free spirit and you can’t see me. You’ll still smell stinky cheese no matter what.”

“I’ll leave some out for you,” Adrien said, voice breaking. “I love you Plagg.”

“I love you too kid,” Plagg whispered, “I am so, so proud of you. You are the best Chat Noir I’ve ever had.”

Adrien was crying properly now, tears streaming in fat rivers down his cheeks. “You’re the best kwami I’ve ever had.”

Plagg hugged his finger. “Heh, yeah I better be. Goodbye kid.”

“Goodbye Plagg.”

Everyone wrapped up their goodbyes. Even with the sorrowful partings, the kwamis were eager to be free. They flitted about in hopeful anticipation. 

“Alright,” Marinette said, voice a little raw. “I will make the wish. I’m the guardian, and I am the most tolerant to multiple miraculouses.”

“You are a child you shouldn’t be putting yourself at that kind of risk,” Nathalie argued. 

Marinette pursed her lips. “You’re right Nathalie, and I appreciate your concern, but right now you’re too weak to stand and I don’t trust Mr. Agreste with this kind of power. I'm the best option”

Nathalie gave a relenting sigh. “I suppose that does pose a drawback.

“I’ll be fine,” Marinette said encouragingly. Despite her assurances, she went in a circle pressing her forehead to her friends’. When she reached Adrien she held out a hand for his ring.

Adrien hesitated. “It could be me, my lady,” he whispered.

“You’re hurt from when Felix slammed you into that wall,” she reminded him, “I can do this kitty.”

Adrien nodded and slid the ring on her finger. The air began to crackle as if lightning were about to strike.

“Plagg, Tikki, Unify!”

Gold light engulfed her, spilling into the room in waves of shimmering winds. Marinette’s eye’s glowed white and her clothes twisted into a long gown of royal purple and gold. Her hair swung loose and framed her face like a black cloud.

Her voice was deep and bellowing- as if it were the voice of something huge and ancient. 

“I wish to free the kwami, so no one can ever trap them or abuse their powers again.”

The words spilled glittery gold out of her mouth. White and purple light swam through her ears.

“I understand,” she said. “The cost of this wish is that no one but us seven true miraculous wielders will remember the world of miraculous. The rest of the world will forget about heroes and villains, and we will never see the kwami again.”

The tinkling of bells rang out, quiet and angelic.

“I understand the cost. I am willing to pay it.”

White light speared through the room, blinding Adrien for a moment. When his vision returned Marinette had returned to her normal self and was sleeping peacefully on the floor. The senti-peacock was gone, and Amelie lay unconscious. 

The miraculouses were dull jewels at his feet. 

The kwami were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue. Basically.

After all the time Nathalie had anticipated losing her life to pay the price for the wish, its touch had been surprisingly gentle. A soft lingering breeze with a faint soothing sensation- and then nothing. The dull aches she had been carrying with her- despite the fixed peacock miraculous and Marinette’s bubbly healing potions- eased completely. 

She had always imagined the price as something that ravaged. Something hungry and sharp, tearing at the lives of those who dared alter the world. Something that would leave her limp beneath green foliage and forgotten under pale butterfly wings as Emilie’s emerald eyes fluttered open. It felt kinder than that in these circumstances. An exchange rather than a consequence. Equal, not inflicted. 

She stooped to collect her miraculous and pinned it to her tattered tunic. It felt like nothing more than a small weight against her chest. Its vivid turquoise gleam had dulled into the regular luster of a jewel.

Marinette rose from the floor after a few moments, wide blue eyes blinking softly. Her friends rushed to her, collecting the small girl in their arms. Nathalie felt a warm ache in her chest as the teens smiled and kissed each others’ cheeks and whispered softly to each other. Safe. Finally, safe.

A familiar weight settled around her waist. Nathalie looked up at Gabriel, who had a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The butterfly pin was fastened at the hollow of his throat, a milky grey color with violet swimming faintly in its depths. 

“Hi, you,” she greeted softly.

“I missed you,” he answered, pressing his nose into her hair.

“I’ve been right here,” Nathalie assured, still watching the kids reunite with happy relief.

“She took you away. I was terrified.”

She pressed closer, nuzzling her face in his side. “I know. So was I. But I could never leave you for long.”

“You can’t help that,” he protested, the old fear saturating his voice.

“Gabriel you finally kissed me, if you think I would let you off easy after that you don’t know me as well as I thought. I would stay alive for you out of sheer force of stubborn will. I’m your problem now and there’s no escape.”

He gave a weak chuckle and pulled her closer. Nathalie savored the feeling of him holding her and found she had every intention of getting used to it. 

“You’re my problem now?” Gabriel prompted with a grin, thumb gently caressing her side.

“Of course,”

“And I’m your problem now?”

Nathalie smiled indulgently, “Always have been, always will be.”

Adrien made cooing noises at them, receiving a dry glare from Nathalie.

“Maybe being problems will be their always,” Alya said. Nino doubled over with laughter. Chloe made a snorting noise that sounded physically impossible for a human to make. 

“For the record, I understand and do not appreciate that reference,” Nathalie said. “I have no intention of letting anyone die at the end of this.”

“It’s a great reference,” Adrien defended. 

“You never read the book.”

“But I watched the movie!” 

Alya grimaced, “My sweet summer child that is not something you should ever proudly admit.”

“Exactly,” Nathalie agreed. “My future daughter-in-law gets it. Well, one of them.”

The teens all turned several shades of red.

“What, why- What on earth are you-”

“Did- you- how did you-”

Nathalie held her hands up, “Nothing, nothing. You’re all just not terribly subtle about your crushes.”

“Mom!” Adrien protested.

“I said it was nothing,” Nathalie said breezily. 

“I’m confused,” Gabriel announced. 

Nathalie kissed his cheek, “As we all expected you to be, my love.”

“That doesn’t help me, darling.”

Adrien glanced between them. “So are you two, like, TOGETHER together, or is this just more of you having the actual weirdest friendship I have ever seen?” 

“We’ve actually been legally married for two years for tax purposes,” Gabriel said.

Adrien’s eyes widened.

“No! No! We are not legally married, your father is just being a bastard,” Nathalie explained frantically.

“That’s what she wants you to think,” Gabriel whispered conspiratorially. 

Nathalie hit him lightly on the arm. “Absolutely not. If we ever got married for tax benefits I would still expect a rock out of you in thanks.”

Gabriel chuckled, “Of course, of course. Now, for reasons completely unrelated to marriage or rings: what exactly is your band size?”

Nathalie hid a smile and arched an eyebrow.

Someone groaned behind them. Everyone swiveled around to find Amelie and Felix lifting themselves wearily from the floor. She felt Gabriel tense at her side. 

“Remember, they have no memory of this,” Marinette hissed, “We can’t treat them as threats.”

“Maybe we should anyway,” Gabriel muttered, “For justice purposes.”

“Hmm, I like that idea,” Nathalie agreed poisonously, feeling some of that cool righteous anger she felt as Mayura slipping neatly into her brain.

“That’s completely fair, but no,” Marinette ordered with understanding but firm authority. Nathalie felt a quiet appreciation for the girl’s unwavering sense of leadership and responsibility.

But, she was still a supervillain, and she was still going to dropkick those bitches if they got close to her family. 

Amelie had a hand pressed to her head and was wincing painfully. Felix glanced around with glassy confusion. 

“Uncle, Adrien, what is going on?”

Gabriel tensed but relaxed just as quickly as Nathalie put a comforting hand on his arm. He strode to the two stiffly. 

“You don’t remember? We were on vacation investigating this building because Emilie had been interested. You and Felix must have passed out due to the high-altitude.”

He lied so smoothly Nathalie had to hide the surprise on her face. Thankfully, for all Gabriel’s emotional manipulation skills, she was twice as capable.

“Yes- yes,” Amelie agreed weakly. “I think I remember that.”

“I’ll call a helicopter to come retrieve us,” Gabriel said casually- as if calling helicopters was as simple as hopping on the subway. “I think this little hiking trip has run a bit too long.”

“Yes,” Felix said stiffly, grimacing as he stretched his muscles, “I believe it has. And Uncle, who are these people?” 

“These are Adrien’s close friends,” Gabriel explained. “I invited them so you would have more people your age to talk to.”

“How considerate,” Amelie said in a gratingly sweet voice, rising to her unsteady feet. When no one moved to help her Felix eyed them all suspiciously and went to balance his mother.

“Come with me, Gabriel said, waving a condescending hand and showing them to the rooms where they had initially been staying. The two collapsed on the couch in relief.

“So what is this place?” Amelie said eventually, glancing around. Everyone paused for just a moment too long. 

“This is a luxury hotel,” Nathalie explained blandly- as if she weren’t lying through her teeth. “It was built in the ruins of a Tibetan temple Emelie was interested in. I got us premier access before the grand opening because Gabriel was a key investor. The profits are going to be used to fund an orphanage for some Tibetan children whose village was destroyed.”

“Delightful,” Amelie replied, sounding far too tired to poke holes in Nathalie’s frantic explanation. 

Gabriel returned from having retrieved their belongings from the outer chambers of the temple and thumbed a few buttons on his phone. “The helicopters will be here in a few hours, you two can take the first one that arrives, and go to the hospital to be treated for your altitude sickness.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Amelie said before falling back asleep. Felix soon followed, falling against his mother with gentle snores.

The teens looked at the pair in bewilderment. “It’s so weird that just a few hours ago she had a knife to Nathalie’s throat,” Adrien whispered.

“She what?” Gabriel whispered back, turning to Nathalie and scanning her for injuries. 

Nathalie brushed her fingers to the spot where the knife had dug into her skin. There was no pain, only a small knot of scar tissue. “Right here,” she said, lifting her chin to show Gabriel the mark. “But it’s fine now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded softly.

Nathalie shrugged and made an I-don’t-know noise.

He gave an annoyed little huff and tangled his fingers with hers, clinging to her carefully as if he could protect her from any further harm.

“So what do we do about them,” Alya hissed, gesturing to Amelie and Felix’s sleeping forms. Gesturing with her middle fingers, but at this point, Nathalie expected that sort of thing from the fiery girl.

“Alya,” Marinette groaned, slapping her friend’s (girlfriend’s?) (Nathalie wasn’t sure) (she didn’t think they were sure either). 

“What?” Alya said. “She killed Adrien’s mom and tried to kill his other one. Also, she’s just a crazy bitch so what’s the harm.”

“Babe,” Nino said, clamping a hand around her mouth, “You know licking me won’t work, I have a brother. Anyway, even if they don’t remember anything let’s be nice to the crazy lady just in case.”

Alya rolled her eyes but obliged. 

“As for what we do about them,” Marinette said, still holding Alya’s hands securely in her lap, “I guess we just do nothing. They don’t remember what happened and no one else will either. There’s not really anything we can do. It’s not like law enforcement will believe us if we tell them they’re magical megalomaniacs and murderers.”

“They will If I bribe them enough,” Gabriel protested helpfully. 

“This is why you should not be allowed to be rich,” Nino replied. 

“Hey, I pay all my employees a livable wage.”

“Yeah, you better fucking hope you do,” Nino said threateningly.

“I like this kid,” Nathalie announced. 

Nino beamed. “I hope to one day be as scary as you Ms. Sancoeur. Though hopefully if meet a rich blonde guy, I’d hope he’d fall for me without having to become supervillains first.”

“I believe in you, Nino,” Nathalie encouraged.

Adrien blinked. 

Something tugged on Nathalie’s sleeve. She turned and saw Jiho staring up at her, dark eyes wide and confused.

“Where are all the guardians?”

Nathalie thought of the shattered remains and dry corpses that had been magically cleaned from the tiled floors. “They’ve gone on vacation into the mountains,” she explained softly. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing them again.”

“I know what it is to die,” Jiho said, startling her. “Are they dead?”

“I think so.”

The boy gave a solemn nod. “The others want to meet you. Can you come with me?”

Nathalie glanced around. Everyone was looking at her. 

“Should I-” she whispered, feeling shy beneath so many gazes. 

“Go with him,” Marinette encouraged, “We’ll watch over Amelie and Felix.”

Nathalie nodded and followed the little boy as he pattered down the hallways, returning to the outer chambers of the temple. Nathalie heard little voices murmuring. 

In each room there were children, sitting on plain cots, legs swinging off the sides. They ranged from five to twelve and watched her carefully as Jiho introduced her. They told her their names, though none remembered their surnames. They mentioned parents who had thought they’d have a better life in the temple and siblings who were long dead and they knew it. They described their lives in the temple- cooking and cleaning all day until they were old enough to use the miraculous, then they would be sent out on missions they never saw anyone return from. 

They seemed shy of her at first, but Jiho would coax in their native tongue and pointedly curl up on Nathalie’s lap or play absentmindedly with her fingers and hair. When she held the little boy and didn’t reprimand him for fiddling around they seemed to open up a bit; some even trailed behind her as she walked around and was introduced to the other children.

A little girl named Ashi braided Nathalie’s red streak. Twin boys Temba and Somba climbed up her arms and swung from her neck like little monkeys. Even the more reserved ones spoke to her after a little coaxing (and maybe bribery with candy, she’s only human after all). 

“What will we do now that the guardians and magic are all gone?” Ashi asked quietly, gnawing on some dried strawberries Nathalie had stashed in her bag. “We’ll run out of food, and the temple will get cold.”

“My family and I are going to make sure you’re all provided for,” Nathalie assured them squeezing the girl’s hand awkwardly as she carried a sleeping Jiho. “I’m going to go check on them, but then I’ll come right back and we’ll figure out how to make sure you’re all well cared for.”

Ashi nodded, expression guarded but hopeful. Some of the children followed her but stopped as she entered the inner chambers of the temple, eyes flashing wearily. Nathalie didn’t dare ask.

She ran into Chloe as she approached their apartments. “I was just coming to get you,” the girl informed her, “The helicopter arrived so Amelie and Felix are leaving.” 

Nathalie nodded and followed the girl to a wide swath of open balcony, where Amelie and Felix clambered into a dark chopper, its blades still slicing loudly through the air. Gabriel was conversing with the pilot, who seemed only mildly bewildered by the situation. 

To be fair, his services were exclusively rented out by rich people, so she doubted this was his strangest job. Honestly, in terms of rich people vacations Nathalie had been witness to, this one had been relatively tame.

“Should we go with them?” Marinette asked, shifting nervously on her feet. “Is there something else we should do that I’m forgetting?”

Nathalie shook her head. “The wish should have taken care of any potential loose ends. Amelie and Felix aren’t something we’ll have to deal with anymore.”

The pigtailed girl relaxed a little at that. The helicopter lifted into the sky and loudly pivoted away.

They waited for a moment, allowing the vehicle to grow smaller against the horizon before speaking.

“But Marinette raises a good question,” Chloe said diplomatically, “Where do we go from here? I mean, we have a whole temple full of children to try and explain. The wish may have taken care of those two assholes, but we still have loose threads right here to deal with.”

“I liked Nathalie’s idea, about making this a hotel and using the profits to fund the lives of the children left behind. I think it’s a very promising concept.”

“It wasn’t really an idea so much as a cover story,” Nathalie admitted, “But thank you.”

“How could we manage such a big project?” Alya asked. “I have no doubt Mr. Agreste is more than capable of helping to fund the plan and finding more investors, but who will set it into motion. And how will we sell the plan to the public?”

“You just worry about what you’re going to do without the Ladyblog,” Nathalie reassured her, “I can manage all this. I’ll have plenty of time once I quit my job.”

“You’re quitting me,” Gabriel anguished, “Why?”

Nathalie smiled at him. “Well, I can hardly work for you and be your partner at the same time. That would be inappropriate.”

“Yes, because that is the most pressing concern about our office behaviors.”

“To the general public, it certainly is,” Nathalie said, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Gabriel gave an aggrieved sigh but melted into her touch. “You know it’s going to be a nightmare trying to find another PA.”

“You’ll never find anyone as good as me.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Will you help me, darling?”

She smiled. “Of course, love.

Adrien made fake gagging noises. 

“You encouraged me to do this!” Gabriel protested.

“You what?” Nathalie shrieked in embarrassment, face flushing. “Adrien don’t tell me you encouraged your father to- to-”

Adrien held up his hands. “Alright, I won’t tell you.”

Nathalie glared and poked the boy in his sides until he was gasping with laughter.

“Mercy! Mercy! Please Natty!” he begged. Nathalie pulled back and settled his hands on her hips. 

“You should have thought of that before getting a supervillain for a mother.”

Adrien headbutted her arm gently. “Yeah, I guess I should have. Oops.”

“Oh well,” Nathalie sighed, “I suppose I’ll keep you.”

Adrien beamed. “Aw, I love you, mom.”

Nathalie ruffled his hair. “I love you too kitten.”

**************

The new assistant they hired was named Clarisse Lapointe. She and Gabriel got along on the mutual understanding that she did not like him, he did not like her, and talking was for suckers. 

Their working relationship was based on mutual introversion and a general dislike of all people who weren’t Nathalie or Adrien. Which was basically the closest the two would come to casual friendship with literally anyone. 

Clarisse made all of Adrien’s friends call her Aunt Lissa. She taught Jiho French curse words and convinced Adrien to start wearing ripped jeans. She asked Nathalie when she was going to get hitched, and when that was no longer a question that needed to be asked she started asking when she’d start having babies. Until, of course, that also became an unnecessary question so Clarisse just tossed around sassy comments with a biting grin. Nathalie just rolled her eyes and told Clarisse to stay away from magnets so all her piercings wouldn’t get stuck. Clarisse would smile and stick out a jeweled tongue.

**************

Marinette got a very well-deserved rest with everything settled. She went to ice cream shops with her friends and finally started getting enough sleep. She volunteered at her parents’ bakery and snuck pastries to a poor starving blonde kitten that seemed to be haunting the area.

She interned at Gabriel brand design houses and got to go to fashion week in Milan and New York. She ended up becoming the youngest paid designer at the company, working with the designer himself on weekends. 

She quickly grew a following among fashion-inclined teens- and hinted at working on starting her own brand with the help of Gabriel Agreste’s former assistant. She was conflicted between the names Tikki or Lady Luck designs. When asked about the names she referenced a stuffed Ladybug plushie she had sewn named Tikki. It was her most treasured object besides the dark garnet studs that never left her ears.

No matter the name she would end up choosing, no one doubted the girl’s success.

**************

Chloe was much the same, blissfully ignoring her parents and being raised by her father’s butler instead. For all her and Adrien’s differences, the two had always had the fundamentals in common, which made for an excellent friendship. 

She did manage to keep busy though, often found at fashion shows or parties where there was a certain designer or DJ. She dabbled in some political activism, viciously critiquing her father’s policies and doing everything in her power to disappoint her parents and use their money for good causes. 

She spent a lot of time working in Tibet, volunteering at a Tibetan orphanage and childhood education program, raising money to rehabilitate children whose rural homes had been urbanized, leaving them in poverty. 

Nathalie even convinced her to get therapy, which the girl complained about to no end, but still showed up on time for and never missed a session. Entirely because it was another way to piss off her parents. Not because it was helpful. At all. Obviously.

**************  
Nino started doing better in school with Nathalie’s tutoring. He still insisted that homework was corrosive toxic productivity and his time was much better spent gaining work experience through DJ-ing and making music, and Nathalie couldn’t argue.

Especially not considering he was the most well-hired DJ in all of Paris and was editing albums for a band called Kitty Section that admittedly sounded very good. He even (supposedly) did some work for Jagged Stone, though he couldn’t tell anyone the details just yet. 

It was a sort of futile secret considering he was basically Marinette’s uncle, had been hiring Gabriel for tour outfits for years, knew Adrien through the celebrity circle, and was Nathalie’s former boss, so they all already knew the details, but they let the boy have his fun anyway.

**************

Alya started a “new” blog called the Ladyblog, where she did “fake” investigative reports on some superheroes she made up. The blog got popular fast and quickly began to feature short stories and fanart from friends in her class. 

Marinette made cosplays of all the characters, further boosting the ongoing story’s popularity.

Alya and Marinette had given each other watery smiles when Manon had seen the costumes and dolls and said she knew what they were from and went on a tirade about how much she loved the heroes. 

Alya went on to invent plenty more superhero stories, each more popular than the last. Every publisher in Paris was grasping at the rights for her next story. Novels were published with the help of her other writer friend Marc. Graphic novels soon followed. Animations and youtube skits swelled the internet, and rumors of an animated show began to haunt the fanbase.

When asked about her inspiration Alya always smiled and talked about her friends, describing just how heroic they could be if given the right jewels. 

**************

Adrien spent every waking moment with his friends and family. Not a moment was spent far from the people he loved, and there was constantly some guest in the mansion, bringing food or chatting or asking Adrien if he could babysit while errands were run. He’d never been happier.

Even his cousin visited sometimes, though that relationship was still a sore open wound. Still, with time it grew less painful, and Adrien had long since been through with his cousin’s bullshit. His cousin knew there were boundaries not to be crossed.

Amelie was never allowed in the house and didn’t complain anyway. Without her sister there she wanted nothing to do with the Agrestes, which suited them just fine. 

Adrien ate his meals with his Father. He spent most of his time after school with his friends, with occasional fencing or Chinese lessons, not the other way around. On weekends Nathalie came home from her work in Tibet and spent as much time as possible with Adrien and his father. She was always a little bit stressed and a lot busy, but Adrien had never seen her so happy before. During the day they went to the movies or restaurants together. In the evenings she went on long walks with his Father (and usually came back with sweets that they shared with him). At night they all climbed up onto the roof with mugs of hot chocolate- and talked and laughed for hours and hours, just like old times.

***************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is it my friends! That is the end of this tale. Well, not like, END end, obviously, but here is where I stop getting bullied by my sibling to post the next chapter because HAHA there are no chapters left to post. I'll probably include some short little stories that happen after the fact though, so if you have any suggestions of what you'd like to see I'd love to hear it. I know I left some loose ends in there so if there's something you want I'd love to have something to procrastinate my homework with.
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking with me through this journey, despite my shit summaries and inconsistent update schedule. Y'all mean the world to me, and I hope you have enjoyed this story!
> 
> Much love,  
> Azi<3


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